


Always an Alpha

by Barbayat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Peter, F/M, Mystery, Plotty, Post-Season/Series 03A AU, Slow Build, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, long!fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:57:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 186,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barbayat/pseuds/Barbayat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going with the end of 3A, in mood and spirit, this somewhat longish story begins the day before Lydia's 17th birthday. After waiting for months for the supernatural onslaught due to giving power to the Nemeton, it finally is happening and for weeks strange murders committed by wild animals are happening around Beacon Hills.</p>
<p>Being alone at home, Lydia is visited by Peter, who has his own scheme going on. Using Lydia for a rather despicable ritual, that has far reaching effects for both of them, Peter then offers his help: to Lydia for developing her powers and also in stopping the killings - something that Lydia and her banshee powers are the key for anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just a small favour

**Author's Note:**

> Lydia and Peter are the main pairing, that is why I only tag for them. There will be hints about other pairings, but they are not the main focus and will probably just disappoint people who look through this story for those. Side pairings involve: Isaac/Allison, Danny/Ethan, Aiden/Lydia, Chris/someone new and much later when Derek finally returns to some non-slashy friendship building up with Stiles.
> 
> It's mostly about the plot - but has some sparsely littered sex scenes, and I will warn for those at the beginning of the chapter. If those make someone uncomfortable they could also read the summary for that chapter and probably not miss too much plot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the 22nd March, while the others are out at night looking at dead bodies, Lydia is stuck at home alone - at least until Peter shows up, claiming that Derek is in need of her help. Of course, he is not taking no for an answer ...
> 
>  
> 
> _It would have been better to leave a note. Lydia was not even sure what she could have written on it. 'Mom, don't worry, I am heading out for the night with the lunatic who slashed me up after the formal. See you soon.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [Imera](http://archiveofourown.org/users/imera) for reading through it and giving me such helpful comments with the wonkier sentences. Also thanks to [Emeraldawn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldawn/pseuds/Emeraldawn) and [calrissian18](http://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18) for moral support, canon knowledge and word wars.  
> Of course many thanks for [raktajinos](http://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/profile) for taking over as my beta and improving this chapter even further.

It was a lovely evening, Lydia thought. Tomorrow was her birthday and given the fact that spring break had started already, it would have been such a wonderful way to begin it; if not for the fact that in the past two weeks a number of weird accidents, animal killings and two cases of clear-cut homicide happened in the vicinity around Beacon Hills. Ever since Scott, Stiles and Allison had undergone the sacrificial ritual, they all have been dreading for something like this to happen.

The mark of the supernatural was obvious. Forensic reports were unable to name the animals which had ripped apart three grown men and two children in two weeks without being seen by anyone. Stiles’ father had even let the werewolves and Allison’s father take a look at the crime scenes. Eventually, Stiles had convinced him to let her have a look, to see if she sensed anything. That had not been the case, but the twins, Isaac and Scott agreed that it was not an animal. It was not another werewolf either. That was all they knew. Neither of them could make sense of what exactly it was they smelled at the crime scenes: just that it was not something natural.

Without more details, Deaton was not able to give them any information as to what might be responsible. Stiles and Scott decided that they needed help from a more experienced werewolf. Since nobody wanted to ask Peter, they had decided to use spring break and look for Derek and Cora. While both had nothing to do with the ritual, they all hoped the two remaining Hale siblings would come back and help if that meant saving innocent lives.

In light of the body count that stacked up around town, Sheriff Stilinski had decided to issue a curfew. Now that he knew about werewolves and Beacon Hills being an actual beacon for supernatural things, he was overlooking that the Twins, Isaac and Allison were driving around visiting the last crime scene. Being the only one with parents who were out of the loop, Lydia had to stay home.

She understood her parents. After all that had happened to her, getting torn up by a crazy alpha werewolf, then nearly being strangled to death by a deranged teacher who was actually a dark druid, they were worried. Lydia's parents did not even know what had happened to her in between those events. She had been too smart to tell anyone that she was hearing voices: one voice to make that more precise. It had been real, but it had felt like she was going crazy at the time.

In hindsight, as surreal as this experience had been, it had been even stranger to have Peter hang around. He was giving advice, making comments and everyone was fine with it, like nothing bad had ever happened. Even she had not said anything against him; and she had the distinct feeling, that Peter knew more about everything that was going on than he told them.

He had been helpful, that much was true, but Lydia had not forgotten what Peter had put her through. Yet, she felt someone should ask him about the ongoing events. He knew things that Derek did not. Since Lydia was not willing to ask herself, she thought she could hardly ask the others. Besides, Peter's interest so far had been primarily focused on getting Derek and Cora alive out of the last situation. Who knew if he was even willing to lift a finger or share knowledge when it came to anyone else. On this night anyway, it was out of the question, she would be stopped during curfew and did not even know where to look for him.

Lydia was stuck at home, unable to even plan a decent birthday party. Having her usually grand party was unthinkable in light of the curfew and the dreadful killings.Then there was, of course, the possibility that given what happened last year, no one would come anyway. That did not bother her as much as not having the chance to help figure out what was happening. Lydia was only ever asked to use her newfound senses and she really did not want to find another torn up body. She loved to put pieces of the puzzle together, maybe translate another text. It was a good excuse not to be alone; to feel useful.

Instead, Lydia was left reading yet another book on mythological creatures. This one was in French and had arrived only two days ago. Not that it was much help. Wherever she looked the texts all said similar things about banshees. Nothing compared to what she was able to do and had experienced; her wails were not exactly announcing death and she did not feel at all like a messenger from the other world. While she had found Miss Blake's victims, or two of them, she was not even a reliable psychic. Sometimes she did pick up things but it came and go. Usually bothering her at the most inconvenient times. It seemed to her that being a banshee was mostly useless.

Those few instances, where it seemed like she was able to help, appeared, in hindsight not all that special. Like at the suicide motel. Allison was the one that had discovered the suicide count going up. All she had been doing was feeling like she was losing her mind again. Had they really needed her visions to check up on their classmates? That was the only time, she had found someone before they were dead. Though she had drawn the roots of the Nemeton, Lydia could not help but feel that they might have figured it out without her help. Either way, they still had needed to do that ritual to find it.

Just as Lydia clapped the book shut in frustration, she sensed that someone was behind her. Grabbing the heavy volume, she swung it as hard as she could from her sitting position. The person who had snuck upon her simply took it from her grasp and flipped it back open.

“You,” Lydia said, feeling like a broken record.

Peter just smiled at her before looking at the first page of the Banshee entry. Lydia used that brief moment to step back. Suddenly, he clapped the book shut and threw it on her bed. Gaining on her with two swift steps, he commented with a brief look at the heavy volume. “You are not going to find what you are looking for in books that are actually printed.”

Her first impulse was to ask if he really was there or if it was another of her nightmares. Lydia knew very well that Peter never was as real in her more recent dreams as he felt now. Not since he had come back from the dead or more precisely since she had helped him come back from the dead.

“What do you want?”

Her voice sounded disappointingly timid, when she had meant to appear confident. She usually was. Peter showing up in such similar circumstances as before left her feeling nervous.

“I need your help, or more precisely Derek does ...”

The way he smiled told her that he was not being entirely honest with her. Shaking her head, she remembered that being truthful was not something one could expect from him; he loved tricking people by telling them half-truths.

“My help? Maybe you should ask one of the others - someone who can actually do something useful. Besides what makes you think I am going to trust you?”

He cocked his head to the side and looked like she had said the funniest thing in the world.

“The others are actually pretty useless.” Reducing the distance between them to two steps, he continued: “It is kind of cute that you think you have a choice - you should have learnt that from our past.”

Lydia flinched, then kept herself together. “I am trying hard to forget about that.”

“Hmm, how is that going for you?” Peter asked.

It was pretty obvious he knew that she was stuck on the trying part. Then again, as they kept bumping into each other it was kind of hard to accomplish. Lydia knew it was a horrible idea to just leave with him. Even though there was little she could do to stop him from just taking her, she thought about her options. Calling for help would just endanger her parents. If she was able to get out a message to Allison, her friend could inform the others. Lydia was no match for Peter, but Aidan could easily take him and together with Ethan he was literally able to wipe the floor with Peter.

“It would help, if you stopped showing up in my bedroom.”

He laughed. “Stop showing up? It is the first time I am actually in here.”

“You know what I mean.”

There was something about the way he kept looking at her with this slight hint of a smile that made her heart beat just a tiny bit faster. Lydia knew he would notice but thankfully Peter did not mention it. He just nodded before pointing out they needed to go.

“I want to get back before someone else stumbles upon Derek - that might not end so well for them.”

“Why is that?”

“I tell you on the way,” Peter said and held his hand out to her.

“I can't just leave, if my parents notice I’m gone ...”

He turned his head to the other side and let his hand sink. Lydia could tell that he knew her parents were often totally obvious to where she was and hardly ever noticed her screaming her head off.

“I should call the others and let them know.”

“Be my guest.”

Lydia was surprised Peter didn't mind, until she saw there was no reception on her cell phone. How is that possible, she thought. Despite the innocent face Peter was making, Lydia had the feeling it was his doing. She couldn't understand how he did it. Somehow she doubted werewolf powers included control over electronic devices.

Sighing, she stepped past him and reached for her jacket and her handbag which she equipped with her cell phone. “Fine,” she groaned. “Let's get this over with.”

“Good decision.”

Before she knew it, Peter had pulled her close and lifted her up. Lydia was startled by his glowing blue eyes as he changed just a bit. Then they left her room by jumping out of the largest window onto the ground below. She had found herself wrapping her arms around him a bit closer. When she felt them land on the pavement in front of her parents house, she looked at him. Stiles had told her that werewolves with blue eyes had taken an innocent life. She wondered when exactly that had happened and who it had been. Then it occurred to her that Peter looked slightly different from the others, when he transformed. When she had seen him first, he had been an alpha and that seemed to account for the difference. Now, she was not so sure anymore.

However, she was sure that he was holding onto her longer than necessary considering that they were on the ground. Their faces were way too close. Which might had something to do with the fact that she was still clinging to him. Embarrassed, she eased up and brought a few more inches between them. Just as Lydia wanted to tell him to put her down, Peter did so on his own accord. After one last look at his face, her gaze went up to her windows which were surprisingly dark.

Peter mentioned they should leave and lead her to a Jeep. The wheels were muddy which suggested it had been driven through non-asphalted roads, maybe even fields. Going into the wilderness with a werewolf seemed like a pretty bad idea. Lydia felt mildly comforted that the usual dread she felt before someone was going to get killed was not there. While that sense was not reliable by any means, it was better than a feeling of impending doom.

She looked up to her windows. Chances were low that her mother would come into her room and realise that she was gone. Still, she would be worried if her daughter was nowhere to be found. It would have been better to leave a note. Lydia was not even sure what she could have written on it. 'Mom, don't worry, I am heading out for the night with the lunatic who slashed me up after the formal. See you soon.' She might have written that she left with Aidan. As she hadn't had a chance to leave a note, it hardly mattered what she could have written.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, she saw that Peter was gallantly holding it open for her; as if that could distract her from the fact that she did not had a say in where they were going. Once she had sat down and Peter had closed the door, she checked her cell phone again; there was still no reception. Lydia was stuck with him.

“So what is wrong with Derek? Why does he need my help of all people?”

She did not mind helping Derek. Her problem was, she doubted that this was indeed what was going on. Otherwise, it made no sense to cut her off from her friends, they certainly would encourage helping Derek. They had not excluded Peter before, so the only reasonable explanation was that something else was going on.

“It has to do with your special abilities,” Peter said looking briefly at her before turning his eyes back to the road. “Even if I knew another banshee, I doubt they would be willing to help.”

“You know what I am?” Lydia said.

It was not a total surprise for her, not after the last thing he had said to her, when she and Ethan had come to Derek's place to warn him about Kali coming. Yet, so far only Miss Blake or whatever her name really had been had recognized what she was. Then again, she was the only one who had said anything. Lydia was less sure about Dr. Deaton. Up to the point where she had helped with the ritual, she had not spend much time with him. From what Stiles had told her and her own experience, Lydia was sure the druid knew more than he let on. Somehow, after what their former teacher had mentioned about banshees she was not sure if she wanted him to know. She trusted Stiles with her secret and he had promised her to stick with the she was something explanation. He even had tried to find out more about banshees, with the same lack of success as she’d had so far.

“I thought you were merely immune - I didn't realise there was a reason for your immunity until later, “ Peter said and added with elation. “If you only knew what you are capable of.”

Hearing him talk gave her the distinct notion that she might not like finding out more. The admiration in his voice was very unsettling, since she doubted it were powers that could be used for good, if he was so fond of them.

Nonetheless, she wanted to know. “What would that be?”

“A number of things, apart from finding dead bodies, you should actually be able to foretell their deaths.”

Lydia took a deep breath. “I tried to do that ...”

“Ah so impatient - developing skills takes time. It's like fine-tuning an instrument. I could help you with that. But first you must do something for me - use another of your gifts.”

For some reason, she didn't doubt his ability to teach her. If he was actually willing to he was probably only interested in using her powers for his own purposes. Yet, suspecting as much, Lydia was still tempted to accept his offer. After all, she might be able to use her powers for something good regardless. Even if that just meant putting an end to her waking up screaming from her really bad nightmares.

“What other gift?”

“Derek got himself possessed - you can help by getting the demon out.”

“Possessed? How did that happen?”

Peter shrugged. She got the impression that he was actually amused by the situation; most likely because Derek once again needed his help. Lydia could tell how reluctant Derek was to accept help, especially from his uncle.

“I mean to ask him that - but who knows, he is rather good at getting himself into trouble. He really should know better by now.”

“And what am I supposed to do about that?” Lydia asked.

“Don't worry - if you do as I say it will work out just as fine as the last time.”

If Lydia had ever heard a less reassuring statement, that had to be it.

“Like me getting tons of nightmares? The police raiding my birthday party? My friends getting drugged by wolfsbane? Nobody telling me what is going on?”

It looked like Peter attempted to look guilty about what he had put her through. Lydia did not buy it. Even if he felt a bit sorry, if he needed to, he would do it again. He was essentially kidnapping her. On top of all that, he seemed more amused than anything.

“You won’t have to poison anyone, I hope you won’t get more nightmares and maybe you’ll even like the exorcism.”

“Coming from you, I very much doubt that.”

He laughed. “I hope you will. Don't worry, it’ll come to you easily.”

“And how far away are we?”

“A couple of hours.”

“Hours? I am stuck in this car with you for hours?”

“You might recall, I am actually good company.”

Lydia did remember. Before she had discovered what really was going on with him, that all of their interactions had happened in her head, she had indeed liked spending time with Peter. It was not necessarily something she wanted to dwell on. So she opted for looking out of her window, avoiding an answer.

Without warning, she felt his hand on her neck and him pulling her down. Lydia struggled against the pull, which was useless given his unnatural strength.

“Sheriff's car, you better stay down.”

With that his hand went back to the steering wheel, leaving her cheek resting against his thigh. Lydia had to agree with keeping out of sight. It just seemed self-serving to pull her head in his lap. If she had not been so surprised and then found herself feeling uncannily flushed, she might have said something. Instead her mind skipped the protest to wonder what might happen if they were pulled over. It would be so embarrassing if that was Stiles’ father.

It seemed to take forever and she eventually asked. “Is the car past us?”

“It passed a few minutes ago. Did forget to mention that?” Peter said with a smirk.

Lydia sat up immediately, glaring at him. Since his smile only broadened with her glares, she decided not to complain, especially, since most of her outrage came from her getting naughty ideas in that somewhat precarious position. That felt so wrong, not just given Peter having messed with her mind, she was sort of attached. She refused to acknowledge what she had with Aidan as more than a nice distraction. Somehow, it was a bit more than that. They might not be holding hands but she had hardly done that with Jackson either.

Despite vowing not to attach herself to just one guy on a permanent basis, she had not looked elsewhere. That gave way to the impression that she and Aidan were officially together, but they had never even discussed anything. It was not like she had much to complain about - except maybe a substantial lack of imagination in bed. Not that the sex was bad: if Jackson and Aidan were any indication, then werewolves in general had great stamina.

Looking toward the driver's seat she could not help but think that lack of imagination was somehow not Peter's problem. Not that she minded giving instructions to Aidan; it would just be nice if for a change she would not need to do that.

Maybe that was why she felt this unwelcome stir between her legs. Lydia tried to remind herself that if she was looking for more excitement in bed, that it should not be with the werewolf who tore two huge gashes into her side with his fangs.

“Interesting”, Peter said.

Even though Lydia knew she should not ask, she felt compelled to. “What is?”

“That you also enjoyed that our little moment just now.”

“What gave you that idea?”

Her voice betrayed her instantly; she might as well have said straight out that she did.

“Apart from your heart beating faster; there is also the fact that your blood went here ..”

His voice trailed off as his hand touched her thigh, his fingers almost reaching between them. Lydia smacked them with her handbag and thankfully he removed his hand.

“I was just thinking about Aidan, how much I would have liked to spend the evening with him.”

It was such a weak lie, especially since his totally inappropriate manoeuvre had only aroused her further. What was it with guys behaving inappropriately that she found so stimulating?

“You can't lie to me, especially not with your heartbeat quickening like that.”

At that moment, Lydia hated it so much that Peter could see right through her. It was weird enough to realise that she still felt attracted to him, that he knew it only made it worse.

“When some sleazy guy gropes me,” she shot back, “the only thing that my heart beating faster proves is that I am still alive.”

“Sleazy? You know I got feelings, too.”

While his playful tone was making it obvious that he was not serious, it somehow upset her. Given his past deeds, even if he had been hurt by the remark, it would only serve him right.

“If you want people to say nice things about you, maybe you should give them a reason to.”

Peter shrugged. “Here I thought I had. I might have made a few mistakes in the past, but in my defence - I have been somewhat besides me. But ever since you brought me back, I have been very helpful. Gave nothing but good, honest advice to Derek.”

“Except you tend to forget to mention along with your advice how it benefits you.”

“Such harsh criticism. I wonder what you have been told about my efforts to help.”

If Lydia was honest, she had to admit that she didn't know that much. Stiles had told her a few things, like the episode with the bank vault. But nothing very concrete, as he knew Peter was kind of a sore topic with her.That and other events, Stiles had only mentioned after he had sent her to Derek, which was the first time she had become aware that Peter was actually still hanging around. Which had surprised her a great deal.

However, she recalled one thing from Stiles’ recount of Peter's attempts at helping, that she could use to prove her point.

“I know you told Derek that he could use his healing powers to save Cora.”

“You say that if was a bad thing,” he pointed out.

“Not that part - but as a result Derek lost his alpha powers.”

Peter smirked. “Now, that is definitely not a bad thing. You saw yourself what he accomplished as an alpha. He got his entire pack killed. Isaac does not count - he was clever enough to switch his allegiance to Scott.”

She felt the car speeding up and saw that they had reached the highway. As the road was free, Peter turned to her. “I told Derek exactly what would happen if he healed Cora. It was not a decision I would have like to make but I did tell him about the consequences. Trust me, losing his alpha status was the least of it; It could have killed him. I even warned him that that losing his power was exactly what Jennifer or whatever-her-name-really-was wanted.”

“You did?”

Somehow Lydia doubted he was lying, yet she suspected there was more to it. It was too easy to assume everything he said was a lie or half-truth. He was still able to get what he wanted. Which he had proven when he had dropped all pretence and made it very clear what would happen if she did not go through with it. In light of that, she should feel grateful that he was approaching it that way.

“What I have to say might not always be welcome - but I do give good advice.”

He sounded noticeable offended but that might have been an act. She knew that he had helped out in the past year, Stiles had told her that much. He had seemed genuinely concerned about Derek’s safety. He certainly was not completely evil otherwise he might have taken revenge on Derek when he had been knocked out and helpless. Given that he was forcing her again to help, it just was easier to assume the absolute worst.

“I still don't believe you are actually helping, Derek. You’re always looking after your own interests. You don't care who gets hurt in the process.”

“That's not actually true ...” Peter began only to be interrupted by her.

“I don't want to hear it.”

With that she reached into her handbag, took out her phone that still showed no reception; it wasn't as if she expected it to change. Not wanting to listening to him, she got her headphones out of a side pocket in her Prada bag.

“Well, we can just not talk, if you prefer that,” he offered, sounding genuinely disappointed.

“I do,” Lydia replied, plugging in the headphones while cranking up the volume.

They spend almost an hour like that. Peter drove without saying anything while Lydia listened to one of her playlists. She could not help but look over when she felt he was not noticing. It irritated her that she was not as upset as she should be. That she kept thinking how he was exactly her type. Eventually, she just had to force herself to stare out of the window.

When he pulled over after some time, she felt a bit startled. Turning to him, she took the headphones out. “Are we there?”

“No, I just felt like getting something to drink. You want something as well?”

Reaching to the back-seat he returned with two bottles of some coloured energy drink, one blue and one red.

“No, thanks”, she said and put her headphones back inside.

With a shrug, he put the red bottle into her cup holder and then drank a few sips out of the blue one. Afterwards, he put it into his cup holder and started the car again. As the drive went on and on, Lydia eventually pulled out her ear plugs again.

“How far is it?” she looked at her phone. “It's almost midnight.”

“Hmm, maybe another hour,” he turned to her. “I am kind of ruining another birthday for you. Sorry about that.”

Lydia flinched: “I am surprised you even remembered.”

Peter laughed. “It's my birthday, too.” Then his face became serious again. “I know you probably hate me, I don't expect your forgiveness, but I did not want to stay dead.”

“Derek killed you because you murdered his sister. You tried to kill Allison, my best friend. So ..” she began, not wanting to actually mention that maybe he deserved it.

“Alright, I did kill my niece, I might have been a bit overly enthusiastic by going after Allison,” he paused. “In case you you forgot, I was in a bad place: being burned and broken, slowly returning from a coma. All those things combined didn't exactly put me in a ... let's say agreeable mindset.”

Lydia stared out of the window, not wanting to remember. As she could not avoid the memories, something else occurred to her. “Strange that you seem to do better, after being burned again, and killed.”

Suddenly Peter turned the wheel and stopped the car on a non paved side road before stopping. His gaze was fixed upon the dark road ahead. “I spent six years trapped in my mind after having watched most of my family burn alive, feeling my broken body heal bit by bit. Knowing that the people responsible for that were still out there.”

He turned to her and slowly reached out as if to touch her cheek, before taking a strain of her hair and brushing it gently back behind her ear.

“And after your friends set me on fire and Derek slashed my throat, there was nothing. At least until you woke up. Even then there was no pain and unlike before, I was not alone with my dark thoughts. I was connected to you. Let me say, your mind is not that bad a place to be.”

It was creepy to be reminded that Peter had been there all the time, lurking in her subconscious. She remembered that she had felt someone, but of course, back then she had thought she was simply going out of her mind. At the same time, Lydia could not help but think about what it might have been like for Peter. Being in agony and trapped inside one’s own mind seemed pretty horrible. That he had come around to being less homicidal by spooking around in her head was even flattering, but Lydia was not willing to excuse his behaviour that easily.

“Good to know that at least you had a great time on the expense of my sanity.”

Recalling these feelings of utter devastation when she thought she was losing her mind was a like a shield against his excuses. Lydia knew she was forgiving bad behaviour way too fast. Allison had often lamented how quickly she forgave Jackson, even before the werewolf/kanima chaos came over them. She knew all too well how that had turned out: she got dumped again, with Jackson not even bothering to sent her an e-mail or text. Not that she wanted to ever again wanted to hear anything from him. Well, maybe if he came crawling back.

Peter did not say anything to her last comment, maybe realising that she was not willing to listen. Instead he drove on and mentioned that he had secured Derek at a cabin in the woods.

'Wonderful,' she thought, 'where no one can hear me scream.'

Which was not that different from being back in her room; neither her parents nor the neighbours seemed to have ever heard her nightmare induced screams. That or they had ignored them. Her parents could be very good at overlooking things. For once that might work out to her advantage. If she was not back for her birthday, they might not even notice.

After all, they would leave around eight in the morning for some event up-state. They might not even think about looking in on her. They always made it a point that dates did not matter and had given her birthday presents days before or after her actual birthday. Not that she was bitter about that, the fact that her parents were leaving her alone for a few days, meant they had finally calmed down. The last thing Lydia needed was for them to get upset again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't be shy and let me know what you think.


	2. Cabin in the woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Lydia arrive at the place where "Derek" has been kept by Peter. Lydia senses that something fishy is going on and when the nature of the ritual is revealed to her, she finds herself strangely into that for all the wrong reasons ...
> 
> _It occurred to Lydia, that if she had a type, it was definitely slightly lunatic werewolves._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the smut in this chapter has extremely dubious consent, please see the end note for a spoilery explanation if you are triggered by dub-con and non-con. I swear the rest of the story is not nearly as kinky or dubious.
> 
> Again thanks to [Emeraldawn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldawn/) and [calrissian18](http://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18) for their continuing support by doing all those wonderful word wars with me.
> 
> Update: This is version 2.0, beta-read by myself as there were some wonky sentences and some rushed moments in this chapter that I brushed up a bit. No content change just hopefully better writing.
> 
>  [Summary for Chapter 1](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-1-asmallfavour)

Lydia decided to have something to drink after all. During the hourlong drive, she had gotten thirsty and the fact that afterwards they still needed to drive back it seemed like a good moment. Even though the energy drink didn’t look very inviting, she felt annoyed as the lid was tightly screwed on and wouldn’t want to come loose.

“Need help?” Peter asked.

With a spark of anger about his playful tone, Lydia managed to loosen the lid. “No, thanks I’m doing fine.”

Taking a long sip, Lydia found that the red liquid was tasting surprisingly well. Good enough to empty it half way over the next few minutes.

“That stuff’s pretty good,” he said. “Even if it doesn’t look that way.”

“Running on energy drinks?” Lydia commented as she looked back and saw two more bottles on the back seat.

“A bit of extra energy can't hurt - you might find you can use a bit of that.” Peter looked at her for a moment.

“For the exorcism?” Lydia didn’t like the smile that appeared on his face. It had this foreshadowing of bad things that were about to happen; it also made him look devilishly handsome.

“It’s going to be a bit exhausting. But I suppose you can sleep off most of it on the ride back.”

“I am so thrilled,” Lydia’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. Taking a deep breath, she asked what went through her mind. “What exactly am I supposed to do?”

“We'll be there in about 30 minutes - it’ll be so much easier to explain on location.”

Lydia could not help but think, that whatever it was, it was probably unpleasant. Why not talk her through it before hand? While she and Derek had not exactly been close or even on good terms, she certainly would not shy away from using whatever powers she had if it meant that it could save his life. Unless, it was not at all about saving Derek's life.

“It seems kind of odd that you started caring about Derek, after he killed you.”

That made him laugh briefly. “I’ve always cared. Did Stiles never tell you why I lured you to the football field?”

A cold shiver ran over her back as her memories flashed back to that scene. Oddly enough, she had no idea. After the attack everyone had basically ignored her, while she was feeling as if she was losing her mind, the whole werewolf angle hadn’t even been conscious on her mind.

Later, after she had finally been in the loop, it never really had come up. Part of her had always assumed it had just been about Peter’s back up plan. But in that case, why had Stiles been there? What had he been doing? He hadn’t been the one that had called the ambulance.

“No,” she stated bitterly.

“Allison's crazy aunt - you know the one who burned me and my family alive - had taken Derek. I knew if one person would figure out how to find him: it would be Stiles. He just needed some extra motivation. To think, none of this would have ever happened to you, if Stiles had just used his knowledge to get to Derek. Although I suppose, in that case I’d still be dead ...” Peter looked to her again. “Either way, you can hardly say I just started caring about my nephew.”

“Are you honestly trying to tell me, that Stiles would just stand by knowing that Derek was in serious danger?” Lydia wasn’t going to believe that.

Lydia realised that she was missing way too many aspects of the story. So far it hadn’t seemed important. She had been too busy wondering what was going on with her. Now, it felt like maybe she should care more about what else had been happening around her. After all, she was kind of part of this whole supernatural world: whether she liked it or not.

“Stiles used to be less fond Derek - I think he wanted him dead - but why don't you ask him about it?” Peter suggested.

Lydia knew she would have to ask Stiles, she wasn’t sure when. Once she got back, she needed to find out more. For the simple reason that if Peter knew about banshees, then she needed to know more about him. At least, if she had any hopes of figuring out how much of what he told her was a lie or half-truth.

In fact, she got the feeling, he was as truthful as possible and just left out details or misrepresented him as it suited his agenda. Whatever that might be. “Please, Stiles does not want anyone dead.”

“Are you sure?” Peter joked. “He wants me dead - then again, I suppose that is different, I guess you prefer me dead as well.”

While Lydia was sure, that he did not really expect an answer to that. She had one nonetheless. “No, I don't want you dead.” He gave her an almost surprised look, which she used to smile at him. “Because I don't want you spooking around in my head again.”

Looking back at the road, he chuckled. “You’re a smart girl. I suppose, that might indeed happen.”

Lydia felt her smile drop. She had worried about this possibility and with Peter confirming it she wished she had kept her mouth shut. Strangely enough as she stared at his profile, watching how he turned just slightly every now and then to look at her, she kept thinking about something else: that she did find him attractive. That he looked particularly dashing since he had dropped the black leather coat routine. Which was strange, because Lydia liked men in leather.

“Is the heat on?”

The question came up naturally as she did feel warm: not uncomfortably but noticeably warmer than before. Almost like earlier, when Peter had made her duck out of sight.

'Don't think about that Lydia,' she told herself.

This time it was her entire body that felt this way.

“Why? Are you cold?” Peter asked.

His voice seemed concerned but Lydia also heard an undertone. When his hand reached out to touch her, she thought it was because he had alternative ideas about warming her up. Only they were her ideas, remembering how warm his real self actually felt. It was nothing like that creepy vision of him had felt felt when he had been haunting her bedroom.

So far from the creepy vision he had went he was basically haunting her bedroom.

“No, I'm actually feeling warm.” Lydia shook her head and brushed his hand aside. Then took another long sip from the bottle. Staring out into the darkness she had to muse on the absurdity of her current situation. “It's kind of ironic. When I mentioned that I wanted to hang out with my friends tonight, my parents said I should stay home because of the curfew. They all agreed that this might be best.” Lydia laughed. “That it I’d be so much safer than looking for dead bodies.”

There was this knowing look that passed between them. It should have terrified her but instead Lydia realised that she felt more excited. A hint of danger, maybe more than a hint, that left her feeling even more flushed. Then, Peter turned back to pay attention to the road which actually began to clear a bit. The dark veil of trees on either side, began to lighten as they reached a clearing.

There was a simple but well-kept cabin on the open space. The headlights partially illuminated bits of it: the neatly stacked pile of firewood, the sturdy windows with the heavy shutters, the gloomy, dark door and the axe sticking in the stump in front of the house. This was the kind of location they used in horror films where they had a crazy axe murderer running around.

'Well, don't be silly, Lydia,” she told herself. ‘An axe murder is not going to be your problem. - You came with the crazy psychopath.'

Lydia found herself looking again at Peter who parked directly in front of the door.

“Show time.” He said with great enthusiasm as he opened his door.

Shrugging, Lydia did the same and stepped out of the car. The air felt chilly against her flushed cheeks. At that moment, she heard a loud growl, that made goosebumps appear on her arms.

“Looks like he knows we’re here.” Peter smiled and closed his door.

Reluctantly, Lydia followed Peter to the door, which was actually pretty well secured. There were two heavy metal bolts securing the door, apart from the actual lock. Not that she saw anything in the dark, but Lydia heard Peter unlocking one after the other. It took long enough, that she become aware of a sound that Lydia identified as the rattling of chains. After Peter had opened the door, he signalled her to enter the cabin. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the dark room in front of her.

Somewhere close in the pitch black darkness of the cabin, someone struggled against chains holding him. The growls she kept hearing weren’t as loud as the first one but they didn’t sound like Derek at all. She had heard the other werewolves make humanly impossible sounds but the continued rhythm had more in common with a captured animal.

Behind her Peter closed and locked the front door again. Hearing the locks being turned made her feel even more trapped. It likely did not made a difference as she’d never get past Peter to begin with but it wasn’t a rational feeling that came over her.

“I'm turning on the light. You might want to close your eyes for a moment,” he warned her.

Then she heard him make two steps and the light went on. It wasn’t particularly bright but Lydia was happy that she had followed the advice.

The furniture in the main room wasn’t too shabby but nothing to brag about either. There was a nice fireplace which wasn’t in use and several trophies of dead animal heads mounted on the walls. Lydia realised that is was a hunting cabin. Given the design, the gun cabinet and the general vibe of the place, she was sure it didn’t belong to a werewolf at all.

There were three doors apart from the front door that lead out of the main room. The fact that it was big but not expensively furnished made her think that it might have been used by more than one person. The dust made it clear that whoever used to have access here, hadn’t been here for years.

“Shall we go and see Derek?” Peter extended an arm to point at the middle of one of the three doors.

Not wanting to show that she was afraid of the state she might find Derek in, Lydia headed with a steady pace towards the door. Peter was directly behind her and reached for the door knob with one hand, while his other arm went around her waist. As the door swung open, she immediately wanted to take a step back. Instead her back pressed against Peter, who prevented her from bolting.

“I assure you, he’s not able to hurt you. Those chains are quite efficient.”

As Peter made her step into the room, Lydia wasn’t minding the fact that he was so close at all. His closeness made her feel warm and comfortable in light of the chilling sight in front of her that was barely outlined by the light falling in from the living room. It wasn’t any less scary once Peter had turned on the light in this room.

There was a completely naked werewolf tied to the bed. At least she assumed it was one, but it wasn’t like anyone she had ever seen. It didn’t even look like Peter had shown himself: in that awful dream, when Peter had revealed to her what her friends had been keeping from her. In his fully transformed wolf form Peter had changed so much that she wouldn’t have recognised him, if she hadn’t know it was him. With Derek here it was the same, he had transformed beyond recognition, albeit in a different way than Peter. Derek looked werewolfish but his face was more human than wolf. Yet, it wasn’t remotely resembling Derek.

Lydia turned her head and looked up at Peter. “That’s not Derek.”

“The possession has brought out a whole new side of him.” Peter told her amused, as if her concern was not serious at all.

Her instincts told her that something wasn’t right. Derek's skin had completely changed tone, it was an ash-like black. His body was covered by black fur, which she supposed was the least awkward thing. He struggled against the chains, that had him spread out on the bed. The restraints around his wrists and ankles looked heavy enough to keep a human down on their own. Thick chains were secured on the floor in two bolted in metal hooks. Derek could barely move as a second long chain around his wrists bound him tightly to the bed. The third chain was even weirder as it pressed his head back, making it harder for him to open his mouth. This way Derek wouldn’t be able to bite anyone coming closer.

“What do you expect me to do about this?” Lydia looked back to the main room, where she’d rather be.

“I’ll tell you.” Peter slowly closed the door.

Next Lydia felt him slipping her handbag from her shoulder. She saw him putting it on a chair that had previously been hidden by the door. Peter continued by holding her much closer than she would have liked under normal circumstances. Right now, she felt strangely comforted by his arm wrapped tightly around her waist and his muscular chest pressed against her back. When Peter’s other hand stroked gently over her cheek down to her neck, Lydia found an odd thought popping into her. For an inexplicable reason, she was bemourning the fact that the bed was occupied.

A wildly inappropriate thought given the situation. Lydia was aware that even for her, this was a little bit wilder and more random than usual. Since he’d revealed himself to her, she had not been that terribly attracted to Peter. Apart from that brief moment after the sheriff's car had passed them, she had avoided remembering how he had made her feel before the unpleasant revelation.

In the past hour, a lot less innocent ideas popped unasked into her head. Just being around him made her body react in ways she’d rather not react to him. It was the one thing that kept coming up, the only thing she could concentrate on. At first she had not really paid attention but her head felt fuzzier and fuzzier as she her state of arousal became more and more noticeable to her.

“You - you've drugged me,” Lydia tried to sound angry but it sounded more like a flat statement.

Suddenly, it all made sense. That was why she was feeling so warm and horny. Why Peter touching her made her re-act so strongly.

“I did,” he admitted. “See there’s a very effective and simple way you can draw the demon out of him.”

Peter spoke with a calm but focused voice. Lydia knew she should be furious, step on his toes or something but as his hand went down from her neck and ran over her breast, she was just letting out a small moan. Peter pressed his head against hers whispering in her ear as he bent it slightly to the side.

“When he reaches an orgasm through you, your powers will draw the demon out. Then all you got to do is letting out one of your special screams and the demon will be gone.”

“Oh - that is all?” Somehow her tone sounded less sarcastic than she had intended. With Peter's stubbly chin pressing against her neck and his fingers opening the buttons that held her dress together it was hard to focus.

“It's either this or I’ll have to kill him. After all, we can't let him run around like this, can we?”

“You don't honestly, expect me to ...”

Her voice failed her as she felt his lips on her neck, kissing and sucking in a way only heightened her arousal. Another series of moans escaped her, especially as a warm hand slipped into her half-way unbuttoned dress.

“I believe, we have already established,” he told her while running his hand over the scars he had left on her side as he continued. “That I don’t take no for an answer. Not with what’s at stake.”

Lydia wasn’t able to shake off the feeling that something was wrong: This was apart from her mind being way more curious about the idea of having sex with Derek in his current form than being appalled by it. It wasn’t even the fact that Peter's last comment should have her freaked out. The truth was she was of two minds on this: it occurred to her that she should protest, because obviously Peter was using her for something shady again.

Lydia was far too drawn in. The thought of Peter stopping to touch her seemed even more unthinkable than going through with it. Knowing that getting out of this would be futile, made it just easier to give in. Even though she enjoyed the feeling of his hands on her, there was still enough awareness left that she had to ask.

“If I’m supposed to ...,” she pointed at the bed not wanting to spell it out, as a moan escaped her and she laid her head back, “why is your hand in my panties?”

Lydia sighed as she got the answer to the question she had briefly pondered earlier during her abduction: Peter most definitely knew his way around a woman's body. His fingers found exactly the right spots. Not just where they were exploring between her legs, the other hand moved from her waist and found its way under her bra.

“Ah,” Peter let out a sigh. “Because he’s not exactly up for foreplay - and trust me - you’re going to need it.”

Lydia wasn’t sure what he meant by this: she was already pretty wet considering Peter had barely touched her. Her bra was sitting rather uselessly on top of her breasts. The left being supported by Peter's arm and her right boob held by his hand while his thumb was running over her nipple.

“You’re a horrible person …” the rest was lost in another moan as his other thumb was stimulating a far more sensible nob.

“Doesn't that make me exactly your type?” With that comment Peter slipped two fingers inside her, yet somehow he managed to keep his thumb in place letting it work its magic.

The new pleasure came with the loss of him playing with her breast. He needed that hand to pull down her dress from her shoulders. It slipped from her arms, then her hips and finally the dress landed on the floor. At this point Lydia felt like being set on auto-pilot. Maybe that was why Peter allowed her to pull her arms out of his embrace. Lydia used the new found freedom of movement to get rid of her bra by just pulling it off without even unclasping it. Peter had his arms back under her breasts.

“As I said earlier,” Peter said with heavy breath and some glee. “I really hope you’re going to like the exorcism, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t.”

Lydia leaned back more, looking up at Peter and resting her head against his shoulder. Deep down she knew at this moment, she’d rather forget about the whole exorcism and peel Peter out of his clothes as well. A loud snarl from the bed made her look back to the actual person she was supposed to have sex with.

Even though there was some curiosity, Lydia could not help to feel weird and slightly afraid about the idea to it with Derek in this not quite human shape. With doubt she kept looking back towards Peter.

“Don't worry, I’ll you through it step by step.” His tone was very sure and supportive. “You’ll do great - I know it.” Peter said those last words as he was slowly leaning closer to her.

Then he kissed her. It might be the drug but this time the kiss felt even better than the one that only happened in her head. When Peter finally gave her lips free, it took her whatever self-restraint she had not to tell him that she wanted to feel more than his fingers inside her. It occurred to Lydia, that if she had a type, it was definitely slightly lunatic werewolves.

He made them approach the bed, but Lydia kept leaning against him. Her arms were resting on top of his as she wasn’t sure where to put them. If she could she’d turn around and ran her fingers all over his back. Lydia was so close to coming and as if he felt it, he stopped. Instead his hand pulled her panties off. At least she thought this was happened, she just felt him tuck and then they were gone. Lydia realised she had stepped out of her shoes, when she he had left her dress behind.

Lydia was completely naked, when Peter lifted her up and placed her on the bed directly between the spread legs. She immediately missed his body surrounding her with so much warmth. Almost as if Peter knew, she felt both of his hands on her back: running gently up and down. “No need to be shy - we both know how much you like using your lips.”

Even though Peter was not exactly wrong on that. Just taking this for granted along with the fact that her dates were somewhat aesthetically pleasing. Lydia wasn’t the biggest fan of hair, even though in this case it was more fur and the important parts were quite normal looking. Except the part that was usually pubic hair looked somewhat soft and furry, but now that she looked at the important part it was on itself quite pleasant looking.

“You can do it,” Peter encouraged her.

“Yeah, why don't you do it?” Lydia asked back rather snappy.

Lydia heard him laugh for a moment, then felt one of his hands trailing over her butt. “I have the feeling, he’d be somewhat less than thrilled if he found out my involvement included getting him hard. Wouldn't you agree?”

Feeling warm fingers once more moving in and out of her, Lydia was not really equipped with any arguments that spoke against this. Besides all of Peter's attentions did only help to increase her arousal. Lydia had the feeling, she was not getting what she needed until she complied. Sighing she leaned forward, put her hands next to fur covered hips. As her lips touched the flaccid dick, the whole body jerked. It was like Derek instinctively tried to get away.

“Ah, that's the demon,” Peter said with a far too mischievous tone. “It knows you’re a danger to it.”

Even though Lydia was more focused on the fingers that now pounded into her faster and deeper, she was still aware that the other hand was applying enough pressure to her back that she couldn’t get back up. Only at this point she really didn’t care anymore. As little as the demon might care for what she was doing, the body it inhabited, was reacting to her touch.

Warm blood was pulsing through the somewhat cool member; blood concentrating as she used her tongue and lips on it. Lydia couldn’t help admire the thick, hard erection that came to life. For a moment she just looked at it and the idea of impaling herself on it wouldn’t get out of her mind. With the mission accomplished, Peter let her come up. He must have sensed her determination as he let her climb on top of the chained up werewolf without interfering. Peter still kept close but that was what she wanted. For a moment she hesitated: seeing those glowing red eyes filled with a rage and madness awoke her concerns even as she straddled him. Peter assured her that he couldn’t harm her.

Any notion of stopping was completely overruled by her her own desires that were clearly running in overdrive. She was amazed by the feeling or her legs pressed against those strong thighs, that were almost twice as thick as her own. That was nothing against what seeing that hard and very inviting looking dick standing up against her stomach did to her.

Without further hesitation, Lydia wrapped one hand around it as far she could and rose herself above the sizeable erection. Guiding it against her wet entrance, Lydia slowly moved down. She moaned loudly as the head pushed inside her and the body rocked up pushing it in a bit faster than Lydia had prepared herself for.

Then he lay still, allowing Lydia to close her eyes and to focus on the incredible feeling of his cock filling her inch by inch. At this point, Peter’s arms wrapped themselves around her, Lydia felt his now bare chest pressing against her back. Her body shivered and she let out a disbelieving groan, when she felt those furry hips brushing against her.

Lydia was sure she had never had something that huge inside her and a sense of pride of wonder filled her. It felt incredible. Even though it was not how Lydia had pictured her first threesome, she was completely lost in the amount of stimulation. For a moment she wondered if she had the energy to lift herself up again from it, but there was no need to.

Peter pulled her up just a bit, making her head feel even lighter as, she moved back down. She found it easier to raise herself up, not stopping halfway, moving so far that just the head was left inside and then moving down again and she went faster each time. Eventually the distance grew shorter again in favour of speed.

It was like a perfect union, she rocked herself up and down, with Peter supporting her movements. At the same time his hands were not idle either. Again he kept rubbing against her most sensitive spot. She felt the werewolf under her beginning to growl reluctantly, but it was all just vague as her own pleasure becoming so overwhelmingly strong.

When Lydia was close to coming, Peter didn’t stop to hold her back. Instead, as she stopped her rhythm with her body trembled from the intense climax, he continued to move her. She felt herself clench around the hard dick as it was moved in and out of her. It wasn’t an especially fast tempo that Peter forced on them but Lydia had barely come down, when she felt Peter’s actions pushing her back over the edge.

For a moment there was nothing but intense pleasure rushing through her. When she came down a bit, Peter finally had stopped moving her and allowed her her to lean against him. Lydia felt herself panting rapidly with sweat pouring down her. Inside her she felt something stirring. At first she thought, the contractions had also caused the possessed werewolf to finally come. It wasn’t an orgasm building up: the dick inside her was expanding, the base suddenly became bigger beginning to stretch her.

Once she noticed, she tried to rise getting it out of her but Peter held her down. His grip on her was unyielding: with one arm still wrapped around her Peter’s own body pressed even tighter against hers. The other hand taking a light but very telling grip around her throat. Bending her neck to the side, he proceeded to kiss it.

In between kisses he told her to relax, which was easy to say for him but she did try to steady her breathing. After the first moment of panic, Lydia found that it didn’t felt that bad, actually it was quite the interesting sensation if not even pleasurable. It was just the knowing what was causing it that kept her from really rolling with it.

“You are truly magnificent,” Peter told her.

Lydia wasn’t really feeling that way, especially as dick inside her had been swelling so much, that she was afraid it might tear her apart if she tried to get off it. Then Peter loosened his grip on her, with the pressure from above gone, the transformed werewolf under her was rutting against her. The growling from him drowned the small wincing noises she made.

It was like the wolf under her had stopped fighting and just sought its own release now. As strongly as she tried pressing herself against him to avoid the knot in her being pressed up and down against the parts not stretched to accommodate it, she wasn’t succeeding. It was far from slipping out of her, but the movement hurt.

Even the parts that had been slowly stretched ached as friction added against it.

“It hurts,” Lydia meekly said.

Peter kissed her again, letting his hand wander from her neck down over her body. “Just go with it.”

His voice sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. Lydia realised that she was still turned on. Once she had gotten used to the pain, it was like it edged her on even further. As Peter's hand moved back between her legs, she realised she’d soon would find out what it felt like coming being stretched beyond her wildest imagination.

“We’re almost there.” Peter took a deep satisfied breath that even in her state frightened Lydia.

His hand stopped stimulating her and Lydia let out a relieved moan, thinking Derek would certainly soon come and that he hopefully would shrink back to normal size. If she could delay coming again until then, she had nothing to worry about. Only Peter had not meant that with being almost there.

His hand moved around to her butt and Lydia felt his wet fingers pressing between her cheeks. She jerked forward and away from his touch. A move that made the huge, knotted dick shift inside her forcing a third orgasm out of her. As she felt herself clenching against the knot, a yell came from her lips: it was a sound somewhat between pleasure and pain. It was too much, her insides ached and yet her whole body was shivering from delight.

Pleasant or unpleasant the pulsing in her vagina was too intense to allow her to think clearly. Moments after her third intense peak, she realised the dick inside her pulsed. Warm come shoot against her cervix, something she had never felt so clearly before either. The weird thing was her body had felt so weak after the intense orgasm, all she seemed to feel seemed to be the orgasm accompanied by a pain that only became more intense. That changed when he came. To her hazy mind it felt like something else poured inside her: an energy sparking from cell to cell throughout her body.

“Yes, can you feel it,” Peter suddenly murmured against her ear.

Even though Lydia felt two wet fingers forcing their way into her sphincter, she knew that Peter meant energy flowing into her body. Whatever it was it only grew and made her feel incredibly strong and the pain seemed to lessen again. Lydia welcomed it.

The super extended dick inside was still stretching her and making no sign of going back to its normal size. Peter was quickly working himself to up to adding two more fingers, which at least didn’t hurt with the energy buzz flowing through her. Without that Lydia might have panicked as she felt Peter's erection pressing against her cheeks

Not that she was entirely opposed to this, it was just that she wasn’t used to penetration by larger items at her back entrance. The feeling of more lube pouring onto her however calmed her and she felt excitement growing. Even the fact that the werewolf under her was making the strangest snarling sounds didn’t disturb her. Feeling the fingers prepare her, slick with whatever he had used, only made her feel impatient.

When he finally withdrew them, Lydia let out a soft growl of her own. The tip of his dick pressed against her hole and then pushed inside her with almost no resistance. It didn’t go much further. The bulge from the knot pressed from inside her vagina against that of the anus and it seemed impossible to fit in more of Peter’s dick.

Peter had other ideas and bend her a bit backwards before he rocked his hips forward.

Pain shot through her body making her scream, before she had to stop to catch her breath. Soft groans of pain still came from her lips. Lydia felt the pain lessen but it only made her more aware that now Peter’s dick was now also hip deep buried inside of her. It wasn’t that she couldn’t have taken him, if Peter had gone slowly and if she wasn’t already filled past comfort.

There was no time to really adjust either, he pulled back with her still panting and shuddering and then filled her out again. There were deep growly groans coming from behind her that made her gasp when she wasn’t moaning in pain. Unable to do anything else but adjust to the rhythm that was forced onto her Lydia closed her eyes.

Peter never pulled out far enough to push past the tight point again, which probably would have hurt a lot more. That was giving her little comfort as he kept thrusting inside her. Her moans turned into soft cries of pain as she felt the constant friction building up to another climax. Lydia’s mind refused to believe that despite the pain, she was actually going to come again.

She was vaguely aware that something else was wrong. There was something about the noises coming from Peter that were sounding more inhuman. This was not him reaching the brink of his own orgasm. The arm wrapped her her made her realise that he was also changing. It was like someone threw ice-cold water in her face. The haze slipped from her mind and she realised what was happening with absolute clarity.

There was no holding her back, her own climax hit her hard and fast. Even though her insides felt sore and bruises, they clenched around the two dicks and she was riding on that peak loudly yelling and groaning. It shouldn’t feel that good and yet it did and Lydia was very aware of that. Even though she knew it was going to happen, when Peter stopped his movements and pressed against her, she let out a hoarse cry wishing she could get away.

A triumphant howl drowned out her voice. Lydia didn’t even want to know how far Peter changed, the fur covered arm around her, the sounds and lastly the shape of his dick inside her made it obvious he was. An instinctive attempt to draw away from the expanding knot, made his claws press against her hips. His strength alone held her in place.

The strain against her sore and stretched vagina got even worse as her back entrance was stretched further and pressed against the thin barrier. It was not just that it hurt more, she was afraid her tiny body couldn’t stand this. Despite that strength that she felt inside her, it seemed like this was tearing her apart.

Lydia was barely able to speak as she felt herself pressing out a “Stop, please stop” but the noises coming from the two werewolves drowned out her soft voice. She was barely able to speak anyway. Yet, the horror came when Lydia felt she was about to come again. Stretched close to the breaking point, the small movement that resulted from her panting heavily, pushed her. She was climbing again and no position or attempt to hold still could stop that from happening.

Unable to cope with that much pain, pleasure and the sheer madness of the situation, Lydia screamed. This time the sound that came out of her throat was not that of a mortal girl: it was that of the banshee. It filled out everything, the room, her mind, and her body. Lydia vaguely heard both werewolves howling in pain as she passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **On consent issues**  
>  While the scene will read more like dub-con when it comes to Lydia, technically it is rape, she is drugged and therefore can not consent by definition. Also, easily to overlook, the werewolf who is getting rid of his "demonic side" has not consented at all ... Even though Lydia did not give her consent, it's not going to traumatise her, but the disconnect between her own feelings about this ritual and the horrified reactions of her friends when they find out later is a crucial part of her development, so if that makes you uncomfortable, then you're are warned.
> 
> **Feeback**  
>  I hope this was not too much of a shock after the almost benign first chapter, as I said from here on out, it will be less extreme, apart maybe from dead bodies piling up. Either way, please let me know what you thought about this development ....


	3. Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After passing out during the ritual, Lydia wakes up back in Beacon Hills but Peter is not yet done with her ...
> 
> _“Oh, still a couple of hours left,” he sighed. “I am afraid, I must confess I sent a few messages from your phone to your friends, telling them that you went away with your parents, who did not want a repeat of that disaster during your last party.”_
> 
> _“So absolutely no one is missing me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [raktajinos](http://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/profile) for beta-reading this for me. As always, thanks to my writing buddies, [Emeraldawn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldawn/) and [calrissian18](http://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18), who are also writing great Teen Wolf fanfics, so check them out!
> 
> [Chapter 2 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-2-cabinthewoods)

When Lydia woke up, she was lying on a bed. It was still dark or dark again, she could not tell which it was, as she had no idea how long she had been unconscious. The light was turned off but she saw that faint city lights outside the windows. Maybe they were back in Beacon Hills, even though not in her room. At any rate, any joy about being back in civilization was overshadowed by being in pain. When she moved, a sharp jolt seem to run from her butt through her spine.

She winced and decided to remain still for a while longer. Lydia had never felt so sore but most of all she was worried about injuries. Peter might have drugged her but it had not been the type of drugs that spared her the memories of what had happened. A shiver ran down her spine, when some details flashed back to her. Lydia drew the blanket around her a bit closer.

Then she realised that she was back in her dress although her underwear was missing. Did that mean that Peter had dressed her or had someone else done it? She doubted anyone had come after her but soon her question was answered as she felt hand stroking over her the side of her face.

“I can tell you are awake,” Peter informed her.

Lydia did not want to say anything. She felt her throat tighten and her eyes tearing up. A small sob escaped her as she felt him lying down beside her. Crawling under her cover. She felt the rough fabric of the jeans he wore brushing against her leg. That was hardly making the closeness less worse.

“You always come through for me,” he said and wrapped his arm around her. “I wish there had been a less harmful way to accomplish what we did.”

His hand stroked over her belly before he slowly undid a button from her dress and slipped it inside.

“I know it must hurt.”

Closing her eyes, she felt a few tears running down her cheeks which were then swept away by warm fingers.

“Don't worry, I am going to take of you.”

Unable to move, being too terrified, Lydia did not move her head away from the kiss he placed on her cheek. As his lips touched her skin, she also felt a warm wave going through her body. Right from where his hand was on her stomach. Then the pain she had felt was not all that bad anymore and few moments later, all that was left was a bit of soreness.

“See that was not so bad, was it?”

Shaking her head, not even sure if she wanted it to mean “No, you are wrong” or “Yes, it was not that bad”. All she knew was that she was not getting away from him, unless he let her go or by some random chance someone dropped in. The latter seemed rather unlikely occurrence. Especially, since she was not even sure where they were. It definitely was not a run down place, from what she could see in the semi-dark and by the feel of the bed, this was pretty high standard.

“What am I still doing here? Where is here?”

Even though her voice was a bit shaky, she was proud that she managed to say something at all. Peter was still caressing her stomach, his face was so close to her neck that she felt his breath on it.

“We are back in back in Beacon Hills and here is my apartment. - As I said, I am taking care of you. In fact, I have drawn a hot bath for you.” He stopped, then added almost as an afterthought: “And Happy Birthday.”

Lydia swallowed hard. “What time is it?”

“Oh, still a couple of hours left,” he sighed. “I am afraid, I must confess I sent a few messages from your phone to your friends, telling them that you went away with your parents, who did not want a repeat of that disaster during your last party.”

“So absolutely no one is missing me.”

“Yes,” he said and she could almost hear him smile. “Don't worry, I have you home before nine.”

Lydia turned her head a bit. “Really?”

“Of course,” he brushed a strain of her hair out of her face. “You don't still think I am going to kill you. - Because that is the last thing on my mind. Not just because you are so helpful.”

His hand moved further up her body and when she felt he might actually reach for her breast, Lydia somehow managed to move her arm. Putting her hand on top of his, the dress fabric separating them, she stopped it. At least he took it as a signal to stop. Not that he had shown the same restrain a few hours before. Looking back Lydia was well aware that whatever happened, had not been an exorcism for Derek. She had felt something taking her over but that might have been the drug. While she doubted it had even been Derek, Lydia knew she had to find out more. If she wanted to make sense of what had happened.

“How is Derek?” she simply said causing Peter to laugh for a moment.

“He is fine, somehow he did not feel compelled to stick around. I am sure, in time he will thank you properly.”

She did want to point out that Derek might have the dignity to be too embarrassed to face her after what had happened, unlike a certain someone who could not get his grabby paws of her. Only she knew that it could not have been Derek. He would be insanely angry with Peter for doing what he had done. Lydia said nothing, not wanting to hear what Peter would say to it. Not wanting Peter to hear her react to his comments.

There was also this feeling around him, that always made her reluctant to say anything in the first place. Like even when she had not know it was him, she had felt sort of threatened by him appearing in her backyard. Maybe her instincts had been right, that she really needed to call someone for help - even if the police were utterly useless. Especially in this situation, it was hard to ignore that she did not just feel threatened - but also aroused by him. Maybe that has been part of the reason she had always felt threatened.

Fantasizing and going after pretty boys had always been her thing, but she had always been in charge. If she wanted to, she could push those thoughts aside and go on with whatever else she wanted to. With him that was different. It was kind of difficult to breathe or stop her reacting to his presence.

The absolute worst part of it of course being the fact that he had to know. Lying that close to her, he must sense pretty well how she was reacting to his touch. Obviously, he should also be aware of how tense she was but so far that had never stopped him. The last thing she did want to get into was a discussion about what she wanted more, him close to her or him getting the hell away from her.

Even without saying anything, Peter slipped out of the bed, giving her some room. After a moment, Lydia turned and looked at him. Her cheeks were still smeared with tears and make-up. Even the waterproof stuff could only stand that much. She did not care, Lydia wanted to know if she could bear looking at him without falling apart, like she had done so often in her dreams.

Much to her surprise he was not looking at her. Peter actually avoided her gaze almost like when she had met him again back at Derek's place. He leaned to the night stand and slowly dialled up the light on the lamp there. When he turned back to her, he handed her cloth tissue. Lydia sniffed and then cleared away the tears along with the black and skin coloured smudges under them. She blew her nose.

“Now, what?”

“Now, you take a hot bath.”

Obviously, he was not interested in making any snide remarks about her appearance. She was not really surprised, apart from calling her a narcissist, Peter had never said anything bad about her. With some hesitation, she threw back the cover and swung her legs over the edge. A sudden move that sent a noticeable pang through her lower body.

“Uh”, she protested.

“You know, I could carry you.”

Lydia suppressed a moan as she sat on the corner of the bed. The pain was not that bad but she had yet to stand up from the low bed and walk to where ever the bathroom was. She could do it, it might be uncomfortable but she was sure she could make it there. After all she had survived the gashes in her side. But Lydia was not really that keen on proving how tough she could be. She did not want to risk that it was actually so bad that Peter would watch her wince with ever step.

“You should - you know.”

Her voice sounded somewhat stronger and more accusing. It might come from the fact that despite his earlier intrusive behaviour that when being faced with her, he actually seemed remorseful. Then he leaned down to pick her up: his lips coming unnecessarily close to hers. 'So much for remorse', she thought as she almost automatically wrapped one arm around his neck.

“Where is my underwear?”

While she was at it, she might as well ask the important question. Even though other things were probably more important than her underwear. What she really wanted to know, was something she could not bring herself to ask. Like if he actually thought taking away a bit of her pain and giving her a hot bath would excuse what he had done.

Lydia did not want to think about that at all. Not about what kind of magic he had actually used her for this time, certainly not the fact that he had drugged and essentially raped her. Even worse, the shape he had used to do it. That thought made her skin crawl even more in light of how thinking about everything that had happened up to that point still caused her to feel aroused.

It was better not to think about that at all, she had wasted enough time in Ms Morrell's office. She did not want anymore counselling sessions. Nobody to tell her that she was messed up. Apart from the nightmares, she had gotten through everything remarkably well on her own.

When Peter opened the door to the bedroom and carried her into the room behind it, she saw that the place was not exactly small. The only reason it had seemed that way is because it had been a guest bedroom. The second probably leading to a bath without a tub. It was a nice place, the living room was big. Not as big as the one at Derek's place if one could call that a living room. There was an area with couches and a TV, an open kitchen with a bar and a corner with small dinner table. In the middle there was open space and, she saw five more doors. The light was dim and she could not make out many details but it all seemed quite elegant.

When they reached a door, she saw the faint light coming from the keyhole. As this seemed to be the intended goal, she opened the door and immediately felt the slight steam rising from the room. It was a surprisingly nice looking bath. Another door lead to what she assumed to be the actual bedroom.

Some part of her began wondering how he was able to afford all that, considering the house fire, coma and death thing. Lydia certainly wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction about saying something nice about the place. She was anyway wondering why he had brought her here. If he drove her home, she could find her way back here and that should concern him.

He walked her over to rather large tub, which easily was able to fit two people. The ceramic was a pleasant sky blue tone instead of a blinding white, so often used. The shower was spacey as well, from what she could see behind the frosted panels. The tiles were the really impressive part though. They fit the colour scheme but some of them had a very subtle wave scheme on them. It all came together over the wall on the tub, where several rows and columns of tiles formed the image of a woman whose dress and the waves seemed to become one.

“The apartment belonged to a good friend of mine, technically it is still hers.”

Lydia looked at him, upset as it felt he read her mind again. Even though, she had been gaping at the motive, which might have invited her thinking about how the hell he had something like that in his bathroom.

“Well, she has better taste in interior design then friends.”

He pouted a little, before replying. “I wish I could argue with that.”

“What happened to her?”

It was almost as if she knew that something had happened to her. Like she could tell from the tone of his voice. Instead of an answer he let her down on the blue rug, steadying her for a moment until she stood on her own. He looked at her as if was waiting for something. Which was of course for her to get into the tub. Just out of nowhere Lydia found herself slapping him.

The smack sounded a lot louder in the tiled room, than she had anticipated and part of her wondered how he would react.

“I guess, I deserved that.”

“Yes, you did.”

With that she felt like slapping him again, then maybe some more. Only as she lunged, he caught her arm. A firm grip on her waist, he pulled her closer.

“Don't start something, you don't want to see through.”

“If you think, I am going to undress, with you in here ...”, she broke off.

Peter looked at her challenging and she put her hands on her wrists and stared back. She was not sure what she was trying to accomplish. After all, if he wanted to he could easily tear off her dress: no werewolf powers were necessary for that trick. Somehow she doubted that he let her win in a power play. It was almost like she was daring him, too.

“I have seen you naked before.” Peter sighed: “Oh well, compromise, I turn around - if you slip, I can still catch you.”

Then he actually did turn crossing his arms and waiting, probably listening as well. Lydia was surprised, this was not something she had expected. Was it truly a compromise or would he turn at the right moment?

“Why would I slip?”

“I drugged you, I might have injured you - making the exercise quite possibly rather unpleasant ...” Peter remarked.

“Now, you are all concerned? Or are just acting concerned, so that I won't tell my boyfriend that you ...”

Lydia stopped, still unable to call what happened by its proper name. “Well, sort of boyfriend - at any rate - we both now who'd win in that fight.”

Peter scoffed amused. As if that thought did not bother him at all, but he kept his back turned to her. “Yes, I know who would win that fight. But that's not the reason, I am concerned, Lydia.”

“Forgive me, if I don't believe that.”

He nodded. “Of course, I do - if you get in the tub. It will help.”

There was something about the way, he said it. That made it almost impossible to keep her anger up. Looking at the hot water, she had begun unbuttoning her dress. He was sort of right, the hot water could not hurt. With no peeking, she actually made her way into the tub. The hot water actually felt wonderful. Using her legs and getting into it, was not even that painful. Must have something to do with what Peter had done earlier to her.

“I'll will get you some towels and something to wear.”

With those words Peter left her alone to soak in peace. Lydia looked around the room, realising that suddenly there was really nothing left to distract her from what had happened to her last night. Somehow going back to it, was not making her feel as she should. Looking at the dress that Peter had so slowly unbuttoned, did not make her feel violated - it made nipples stiffen, even in the pleasantly hot water. It made her feel bad, like there was something wrong with her.

At least she still felt positively crept out when she remembered how it all had ended. Something was definitely wrong with her, she kept thinking. Then Peter came back into the bathroom. Carrying two white towels, with a package from Macy's and a long blue dress. Lydia could not help but blush wondering if he was able to see anything given she was in hot water.

“Towels, and something to wear,” he said. Then he walked past her and put the towels down before hanging the dress on a hook and then laid the package down on a shelf. “You know, there really is no reason for you to blush.”

“Who is blushing?” she snipped back. “It's the hot water.”

Kneeling down by her side, he said almost softly. “The way your body re-acts to me. It's not like you have any control over it. I meant what I said, I was hoping you might enjoy it. I know you did - to a point.”

“Yeah, that's right,” Lydia found herself saying before she realised how that must sound.

That was the dreadful part, Peter would always be able to point out that she had not only been totally into it, that she was still reacting to it, just thinking about it.

“As I said before, you are strong. You pulled through that last ordeal, remarkably well. Much better than I had anticipated. Except of course, for the part, where my bite brought out the banshee in you.”

Lydia was glad that he did not make any remarks about her slip of the tongue. He seemed appreciative about her ability to cope with everything that he had put her through. That she had not gone crazy or was a complete mess, was for her to be proud of. It was not some badge of merit Peter had any right to pin on her. But instead of calling him on it, Lydia found herself wondering about something else.

“Brought out? Are you trying to tell me, I would have become a banshee anyway?”

“Actually, no, you may never have found about it. But it had to be there. An Alpha can only turn people into werewolves.”

Somehow that made sense. The fact was there were almost no information available on banshees that seemed to fit her. Even though she was rather suspicious about whatever might have actually happened last night, apart from the obvious, Peter definitely knew something.

“How come you know about banshees?”

“I could tell you that, if ...”

His hand touched her hair and stroked it down to her neck where his fingers moved through it until she felt his finger tips on her skin.

“.. if what?”

“I can wash your hair?” Peter's voice sounded alarmingly innocent.

Lydia looked at him. “What? Are you serious?”

“Absolutely, you got such beautiful hair.”

“Whatever,”she sighed.

If there was one thing she liked it was compliments. Not that she should care about what Peter thought about her. This and curiosity got her to focus on the fact that it was just hair washing. So she just dove under the hot water. Letting her hair soak, washing away the tears and her smeared make-up. When she could not hold her breath any longer, she rose back up.

“You look even prettier without make-up, did I ever tell you that?”

“No, I don't recall that.”

Peter did not waste much time, he had already reached for the shampoo and poured some of it into his hand. Then she heard how he spread the substance between his palms. She had a coiffeur do this a hundred times and yet now it felt strange. His fingers moved with a firm touch massaging the shampoo into her hair. But he did it slower, in a way that was more sensual than anything else.

Letting out a sigh, she remembered that they had a bargain. “So, how do you know about banshees?”

“It's a bit of a longer story, but to start it off - you know about Deaton and what he does for Scott and Derek?”

“Yeah, he is sort an adviser for alphas and a druid, the non-murderous kind.”

“Yes, that is true,” Peter continued. “Druids know an awful lot that they dislike sharing, out of fear that someone misuses that knowledge.”

“Someone like you?”

Lydia asked, immediately thinking about that little moonlight ritual or Peter somehow knowing that she was immune. Somehow she was not sure if spooking around in her mind was something werewolves just knew how to do. Her hair was now mostly on top of her head, his fingers moving easily through all of it as the shampoo made it slippery.

“Yes, but the druids are not the only ones, who like to guard their secrets ... there are also witches,” saying this he was so close that Lydia felt his breath on her bare neck.

“Of course, there are - is there anything that does not exist?”

A revelation that somehow seemed only logical. Werewolves, druids and darachs, kaminas and banshees - if those existed why not witches, vampires or ghosts? Lydia was too relaxed thanks to fingers running over her head to muster any sort of anxiety about this.

“Luckily a few things have not been seen around for a few centuries. However, most things exist, just different from what is shown in printed books. Like the banshees,” he said reaching for the shower head. “There was this young witch, she and her family lived here.”

He paused and began rinsing out her hair. Lydia just closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation. Wondering what happened between Peter and this girl. If she had to take a guess, she would say it probably did not end very well. At least not for the witch.

“Derek was still so little then, my sister had become pack leader and I knew witches and werewolves do not mingle. So, despite the unspoken rule, I sought her out. Jenna, that's her name, was a rebellious little witch. Told me things I was not supposed to know about, like her families' arcana.”

He stopped as he turned off the water, hanging up the shower head.

“Arcana, is that like a spell book?” Lydia said curious.

“Not quite, it's a family history, a book that is filled with whatever contact that family had with beings that are magical like them. Witches, even more so than the Argents, are matriarchal, it's only meant for the eyes of the next leader of the clan.”

Putting a comb on the edge of the tub, she saw that Peter reached for conditioner. Despite the feeling that she had spent too much time in the water, Lydia wanted him to go on.

“But you talked her into showing it to you?”

“As I said, she was rebellious, I barely mentioned it - but she brought it up again and again, until I finally agreed, despite knowing it was dangerous. Getting caught would have been really bad for both of us.”

“So, that book, then you saw it ...” Lydia broke off.

As she felt comb gently running through her hair thus distributing the conditioner she sighed softly.

Peter continued: “Yes, I've gotten a really good, long look and in that book it spoke about a banshee, that the clan had encountered in the 1850s - there were pages upon pages, detailing what the banshee had been doing, what her weaknesses are, her strength and ...”

Lydia felt the comb in her hair slowing down as he hesitated. “How the banshee was killed?”

Taking in a sharp breath, he confirmed her assumption. “Yes, it was not pretty story.- Let's just say, the less people know what you are, Lydia, the better for you.”

Despite the water still being warm, she felt a chill on her neck. While she had her doubts about what he told her being the full truth, the way he said it, sounded like he was warning her. It felt like more than advice. There was something about her being a banshee he had not yet told her.

“Not that you need to worry, you have your friends, who will protect you - and you have me. While you might not have noticed any physical increase in power, let me assure you, once allow me to assist you in reaching your full potential, you will be incredibly powerful. You have a very strong mind ...”

“... look, I am not on a power trip. I just want to know how to get rid of these nightmares that make me get up and drive around town to the nearest torn up body. At least I want to know how to get to them in time to save them. I've found enough dead bodies ... I am so done with that.”

Peter whispered to her, just shushing her, as he continued to comb conditioner into her hair. It worked, she was calming down a bit. Considering most of the time spend with him, she was either scared out of her mind or terrified of some hideous vision, this was actually a nice change. Being able to find a path back to being calm and relaxed was not that easy for her.

“We certainly will be able to reach that point. If you are patient enough.”

“So what happened to Jenna?”

“Her mother and my older sister decided that we were not allowed to see each other anymore. They moved - to Salem, if you can believe it.”

“You never saw each other again afterwards?”

Lydia asked, not even sure why she wanted to know that particular piece of information. Peter was obviously not giving her the whole story but it could hardly be as simple as, her showing him the book and the whole thing ending because of custodial interference.

“No, we never saw each other again,” he said with solemn voice.

“So, it's not her you got this place from?”

“That would be her sister.”

“You also slept with her sister?” Lydia said.

“Actually, I slept with neither of them ...,” Peter complained with an almost offended undertone. “Jenna and I were just good friends and Ines, well, she is fond of everyone who accepts her sister.”

“Oh, and why would the witches and your sister have a problem with that? If they did not knew about you sneaking a peek at their special book?”

Putting the comb away, Peter used his hands to straighten her hair, leaving her shoulders bare. She was not really surprised when his hands touched them.

“That's because, a lot of witches are snobs, they look down on every other supernatural being. They especially did not like me around them. But that is a story for another time.”

Lydia leaned back looking up at him: “Like that needs an explanation.”

He leaned so close down that it seemed like he was going to kiss her, but when she sunk down to avoid his lips, he stopped. Instead, he got up sounding somewhat disappointed. “I'll have to make a call, when I get back I rinse out the conditioner - unless ...”

“I do it myself,” Lydia replied. “You know, I am kind of hungry - for food.”

“Don't worry, I have that covered. How are you feeling?”

Now, that he mentioned it, she realised that physically she felt really good. There was not even the hint of pain or soreness anymore. That seemed rather suspicious to her.

“Good, really good actually. You did not drug me again, did you?”

He laughed. “Feel the need to strip me out of my clothes?”

“No,” she said sharply.

Shrugging he replied: “Then I guess, I did not. What I did do, is put something in the water that sped up the healing process.”

“Something like a potion?”

“Something like that,” he nodded.

After that he turned and left her alone once more. Leaving her to wonder why he was so overly considerate. It was a nice thought that he might actually feel bad about what he had done but there was something fishy about his whole behaviour. The last time he had not bothered with her either, although he had not been exactly in the best of shapes then. Then it dawned on her, that if this did speed up the healing process, then there would be absolutely zero physical evidence of what had happened.

Staring at the door she let out an angry breath. “Of course, why am I surprised about that?”


	4. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still at Peter's apartment, they share a fancy dinner while talking more about her dreams and how Peter might be able to help her with learning how to control them.
> 
> _“Because your abilities were dormant. It can’t exactly say what triggers them, but we know one method that worked. I could taste right away, that there was something different about you.”_
> 
> _Lydia flinched. “Could we please not discuss what my blood tastes like on the dinner table?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For moral support and inspiring Teen Wolf discussions, I am in debt to [Emeraldawn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldawn/pseuds/Emeraldawn) and [calrissian18](http://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18).  
> The final brush over was done by my lovely beta [raktajinos](http://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/profile) whose comments and corrections are always helping me improve the chapters.
> 
> [Chapter 3 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-3-aftercare)

Rinsing out her hair went much faster when she did it herself. After using her toes to dial open the drain, she propped herself up on the edge of the bathtub and carefully rose to her feet. After she had cleared her hair of the excess water, she reached for the bigger towel to wrap herself up, before she stepped out of the tub. Using the second one to rub off her hair and then wrapping it around her head like a turban.

The mirror showed her a surprisingly normal looking view of herself. She had cried a bit earlier but that was all gone. Her eyes were not even puffy looking. 'Because you went under water - into whatever was in that tub,' Lydia thought. Meanwhile the drain slurped as the rest of the water disappeared into it. Drying herself off, she suddenly noticed, that her handbag was lying under the washbasin on a footstool.

Looking from her old dress to the new one that Peter had hung up, the decision was actually not that difficult. After drying herself she went over to the package and found a gorgeous set of shiny silk underwear in the same colour as the velvet blue dress. Something felt wrong about accepting this. Still, the clothes were incredibly gorgeous, right down to the black pantihose with the stitched-in symbol at the ankles.

She waited a moment until her hair was not dripping anymore and then put everything on. Almost expecting Peter to conveniently step in just at the right moment. That did not happen. Eventually she stood there in that gorgeous dress, which fit her perfectly. Even the bra was a good fit and it certainly did brought out the best side of her figure.

For a moment, she hesitated, then she took the comb, washed off the last of the conditioner and tamed her hair, using the spare clips from her handbag to create the resemblance of decent hairstyle. A ringing distracted her and she realised it must have been the doorbell. She listened at the bathroom door and realised that it must be some form of take out.

“If you’re ready, dinner certainly is,” Peter said loud enough for her to hear it clearly.

“Almost done.”

Her reply came almost without thinking. Then she shrugged and went back to the mirror taking her sweet time and care with doing her make-up. She was still barefoot, apart from the pantihose covering her feet. At least the floor was pleasantly warm. Lydia straightened herself before she opened the door. Deciding what ever happened, she would not cry anymore.

“Wow,” was the first thing Peter said as he saw her.

“What?”

“You look absolutely gorgeous - much more beautiful than I had imagined.”

Lydia found herself blushing and evading his looks, but she was not as shaken as earlier and could not help but realise something else.

“You planned all of this, didn't you? For quite some time. But how could you have known about ...”

“Hmm, you mean that my nephew would get himself into trouble, just in time for your birthday? Believe me, that was coincidence. I figured since I did not exactly say thank you the last time, I would do so this year.”

It was of course not the truth, Lydia knew as much. Yet, somehow it did not seem to be complete lie either. Maybe some part of him had indeed felt bad about putting her through all this. However, why wait so long? Peter must have planned something. Maybe he had waited for something else to happen. Maybe it just had seemed somewhat poetic to make it happen again on her birthday. Without knowing more, she would hardly figure it out now.

“Anyway,” he continued. “There is pretty nice restaurant close by and they were so kind to deliver.”

As Peter stepped out of the way, she saw the dinner table. It was complete with everything, including candles and once more she got the feeling that he was trying to manipulate her. Only she had the growing suspicion that he wanted something else from her. At any rate, it sort of worked. Even though she was not particularly fond of those romantic endeavours. Yet, she liked it, while at the same time, she felt guilty about that.

“Candlelight dinner? Really?” Lydia said sounding as bored as she could.

The good thing was that in this case feigning her disinterest came easy to her. For once, it seemed that Peter either did not know what to make of it or choose not to contradict her. Instead, he pulled up her chair and helped her sit down.

“I used to be quite fond of them. Candles I mean,” he sighed. “I figured, I am not going to let unfortunate encounters with flames spoil them for me forever.”

That was so typical, she thought. Peter bringing up the fire using it in a way that would make anyone saying something against it look like a total jerk.

“I am just pointing out, that a few nice words and gestures, a dinner are not going to get you on my good side any time soon.”

Her comment only got her another smirk and Lydia barely managed to fight of the urge to roll her eyes.

“Which reminds me, I almost forgot about something.”

Peter walked back into the bathroom, giving her time to look at the meals on the table. It was far from being take out. She had an general idea what was on her plate and it looked delicious. It probably should not surprise her. He was not exactly one of her disposable boytoys, that at best could spot the difference between Chicken McNuggets and whatever their Burger King counterpart was called again.

At least it gave her something to think about, a nice distraction, and maybe that had been his intention. Nonetheless, whatever it was, it looked nice. If she had to guess it would be some form of poultry her bet was on turkey or chicken breast. With a bit of a fancy crust to keep the meat juicy. The green beans made her smile. To her delight they were prepared in a way that she preferred: They looked still firm to the bite and not overcooked to the point where they were mushy and had lost every last vitamin. The other part seemed to be some sort of potatoes but she was not sure what type.

Peter's dish of course had red meat on it, surprisingly vegetables in form of green peas and carrots that were formed like little bow-ties. The restaurant had also brought up a decanter filled with red wine. There was also a bottle of table water. Then he already came back, holding a pair of blue high heels, that also matched the colour of her dress. Then he knelt down next to her. Lydia tried hard to remember breathing as he took her ankles one by one and put the shoes on her. “I can't continue to let you run around barefoot, can I?”

Lydia remembered all too well, that for some reason she kept up ending traipsing around barefoot in the mud while he made her walk to the Hale house or collect wolfsbane in the middle of the night. There was something about him, that really got to her and it was more than just what had happened between them. They was something going on and whenever she felt his hands on her, it was like she felt scared and excited at the same time.

“I would ask, how you know my size so well - but I have the feeling, I will not like the answer.” Lydia sighed and thoughts. ‘I think I know the answer.’

Beta or Alpha, Lydia had not forgotten that he was still the most dangerous werewolf in town. At least most dangerous to her considering how she reacted to him. While she wanted to tell him, that buying her good favours was not working either, she kept that comment to herself. After all, it could not hurt if she let him try. She was more concerned about the way he kept touching her, that affected her so much more than any gift or kind gesture.

“Shall we eat then?”

Peter rose and walked over to the other side of the small dining table. Lydia smiled and picked up her knife and fork once he had a change to do the same. She tried the meat first and had to say, it was a particular delicious, juicy turkey. Her parents probably were able to make out all the different tastes easily but she could only discern a few of them, like the distinct taste of saffron. Taking a closer look at the crust of it, Lydia did recognize part of what it was made of: peanuts. Which she had an allergy to. “Are those peanuts?”

Peter had a devilishly smirk on his face. “Yes - but don't worry, you are not allergic anymore and you know it.”

Feeling her heart pump against her chest, Lydia wanted to rush to her handbag. She knew this time, that he was not lying. All through the year, Stiles had occasionally offered her chocolate snack, that contained enough peanut traces to cause her a reaction. Only that did never happen.

“You ordered this to point that out?” she said angry regardless of the outcome.

Peter looked at her, calmly chewing his meat before finally answering her. “That and because it is a delicious dish. That you can eat now. There is no reason to be angry, I was not testing a theory. You are a banshee, which gives you certain advantages. Like when Isaac tested the Kanima poison on you - they all thought you were it as there was no reaction. The thing is you are immune to almost everything.”

“If I was a banshee all along, why was I allergic to them in the first place?”

“Because your abilities were dormant. It can't exactly say what triggers them, but we know one method that worked. I could taste right away, that there was something different about you.”

Lydia flinched. “Could we please not discuss what my blood tastes like on the dinner table?”

“Ah yes, that probably was not the best memory to bring up,” he confirmed, then asked with a smile. “Wine?”

“As long as it is not drugged ...”

With that she pushed her glass a bit closer into his direction and watched how he poured the wine in until it was half-full. Then he poured himself half a glass before putting the wine down again. There was already a third gone, so he apparently did not want to get her drunk. Then something occurred to her.

“I can't get drunk anymore, can I?”

“You would have to drink an awful lot to feel any effects from alcohol,” Peter said. “Werewolves have the same problem. Our livers just work too fast.”

Lifting up her glass, Lydia stared at the red liquid, then looked at Peter's glass. It might be silly but somehow the colour reminded her of that bottle with the drugged energy drink. He must knew what her hesitation meant. Picking up his glass, he held it out saying.

“Here is to a very long life.”

Lydia repeated the last words as she followed suit, waiting till Peter had tasted the wine before she could bring herself to take a sip of her own. It tasted like wine, not that she had the greatest experience with it. Her parents took her sometimes for fancy dinners, most of the time she ate with her friends or cooked for herself something that was a bit healthier and nourishing than the meals they got at school. Still, she liked the taste of this one, far better than what she had on family dinners.

“Are you going to?”

“What?” he asked amused.

“Teach me. You said if I helped you, you could help me predict people dying before it happened.”

“I can, if you really want me to.”

Then he continued with his dinner, while she realised that she barely had touched hers. She began to remedy this but also thought about whether she really wanted his help. Especially, if it meant spending more time with him. Time that might involve her dreams. Considering how glad she had been to get him out of her head, to not dream about rotting or dismembered corpses. She awoke sometimes from dreams that she could not remember but it was not as bad as it used to be. Unless, she had woken up feeling compelled to drive someplace beyond her control. Nothing of the sort had happened, despite the numerous murders occurring.

“Lately, I had not any dreams - but I am still waking up, feeling like I had dreamt something ...”

“.. something truly awful?” he finished for her and Lydia nodded.

Peter lifted his glass and stared at it before he took another sip. “It could be one of two things: either you managed to block your dreams yourself or someone is blocking you. Since I have the feeling that you would want to help your friends, I gather it is more likely someone is blocking you.”

Something about the way his voice got lost in thought near the end, made her realise that she had been right to wonder if they should not ask him for his opinion on the strange killings. After all, either he was going to tell them if he knew something or not, asking could not hurt.

“Do you know who is doing all these killings?”

Lydia took another bite, somehow not comfortable with the way Peter leaned forward and looked at her. “Why would you think that? Wondering if I might be responsible?”

“We know it's not a werewolf ... which is like all we know. I am asking because you seem to know a lot more about what else it out there.”

He shrugged and smiled as he leaned back. “That I do, but I am hardly the only one. Why don't you ask, Dr. Deaton? By now, I am sure you are aware what he is. I expect after seeing the result of your little ritual he must be eager to help you figure out who is causing all these deaths.”

The mere mention of the ritual got her hand trembling. If whatever had come to Beacon Hills because of that, then these death were their faults. Of course they had hardly been aware of what that actually meant. Deaton would have, while he probably did not foresee that all these murders would happen, it still seemed odd that so far he had not offered any more insights.

“He says there is not enough information for him to tell us anything.”

“Hmm,” Peter said and continued with his meal. Eventually he put his fork down. “I’m not sure yet either, but I will look into it. Bodies dropping on such massive scale, that is never a good thing. What I definitely could do, is help you become a more active dreamer.”

“More active? Like I need any more nightmares ...” Lydia said.

“I can understand that - but the more control you have over them, the better you will be able to handle them - to use them. You said yourself you would prefer to dream in advance, so that there might be time to get to someone before they're shred to pieces.”

Part of her wanted to be done with all this - but Lydia knew that this was not an option. If she could save lives, if there was just a chance, that Peter could help her to figure her dreams so she could use them to find people in time, then she had to take it.

“Just exactly how are you planning to teach me how to control my dreams?”

“It does not involve any more sex rituals, if that is what you are worried about ...”

The way he said it, Lydia had the distinct feeling he was regretting that somewhat. Nonetheless, the more she thought about it, she was convinced that he knew how to do this active dream part. That would certainly explain how he had been able to invade hers with so much ease.

“What do I need to do?”

This time he picked up his fork again, before calmly saying. “First, I would say, you finish your dinner, then I will drive you home and when you dream tonight, you try to hold onto anything you feel, even if you don't remember it.”

Lydia looked at her plate, which was almost half full and realised that she probably should eat something. She doubted that she felt up to making anything once she got home. With Peter gone she could of course call her friends but what was she going to say? Somehow she had the feeling they would eventually find out but on this day, she was happy not to get into explanations about what had happened on her birthday yet again. There had been enough complaints directed at her the last time. This time she was even less sure what had transpired. 'Just don't think about it, Lydia - just don't,' she silently urged herself as she emptied her glass of wine.

“What?” she asked when she say how Peter looked at her.

“Most girls your age, usually take only to sweeter wines.”

“I am not most girls.”

He smiled. “Which is why I choose it.”

That was a trap she could have foreseen. Even though she knew why he had brought this up, to show her that he knew her all too well, it still had the desired effect. She liked the fact that he had taken the time to find something more special for her, something neither her parents or her friends would not have been able to pull off. It did not matter, that he did it for his own reasons.

After she had finished her plate he offered her to share the last bit of the wine but she declined since she was not sure how much of that particular wine she could drink without it having side effects on her. She did not fully trust him about being immune to alcohol, after all he had drugged her. If she was to get slightly drunk and ended up doing something she knew she would really regret, she would feel even worse about this. So Peter drank the rest of the wine, having finished his plate a bit before hers already.

“Looks like it is about time to get you home.”

Lydia looked at him, still trying to figure out what exactly he was playing at. At the same time she was also thinking about her dreams, how she only remembered having them but not a clear idea what she had dreamt. Something or someone blocking potentially horrible images from her mind seemed better than having someone play around in it. However, ignoring the problem would not make it go away or allow her to do something useful.

“Well, I won't object to that.”

With that comment she stood up. Carefully taking the first steps with her new shoes. They fit her well enough to get slowly used to them. As she walked up and down a bit, Lydia noticed that Peter was watching her still seated at the table.

“Well, are you just going to stare or are you going to get the car keys?”

His reply was to pull them out of his pocket, but then he got up in a move so fast that it betrayed his true nature. “Let's go.”

Minutes later, taking an elevator down to a subterranean garage, they reached the Jeep with the dirty wheels. In the car, she finally checked her cell phone. It was still not getting a signal and the clock showed that it was past curfew. Lydia could only hope that they were not stopped. If they were, that it wouldn’t be Stiles' father.

“You said,” Lydia said after a moment of silence, “that the other possibility was that I might have managed to block my dreams. Is that something I can learn as well?”

“Blocking dreams is probably the most easy thing to learn, but it comes with a price. If you do it too often, you will find that sleep won't give you the rest you need.”

That was not the answer, she had been hoping for. That solution would have been too easy, life was never that generous. Peter obviously heard the dissatisfaction in her sigh, or maybe he saw her briefly pouting.

“Active dreaming on the other hand, might give you the ability to shape your dreams. That is your own dreams, if you connect to the dreams of someone else, it is harder. As for the prophetic dreams, that is even harder to influence. It will take time ...”

That was the obvious catch. If she was going through with learning what Peter called active dreaming, then she would have to spend more time with him. From his tone and the way he looked at her, he was certainly liked the idea. Lydia could not say that she minded that so badly, as long as he would behave. If she was right and the strange ritual had not involved Derek, maybe there was no need to tell the others. It was not like they had told her everything - at least not right away. Considering that nothing bad had happened the last time, after Peter had used her for a ritual, Lydia felt even less inclined to tell her friends about this time.

“Assuming there is time - nearly a dozen people have died.”

Peter looked at her surprised. “So far I counted seven. Five strange animal killings and then two really gruesome murders.”

“Our count includes four people who have died in bizarre accidents,” Lydia explained. “Stiles has been keeping an eye out for that.”

“Interesting,” he replied. “No doubt, you have been expecting something like that for a while ...”

There it was again this feeling of guilt. The unnerving feeling that without that ritual these people would still be alive. “Too bad your sister removed the location of the Nemoton from your memory.”

“Well, she wanted to keep us from doing what you did - giving power to it.”

At the next red light, he turned to her. “Your friends ran out of options, it was either their parents or some vague threat to the town in the future.”

“I know, it just - if there is something I can do to help figuring out who is behind those deaths - I want to help. What good did it that I drew those stupid roots, when it was obvious anyway that she would keep them there?”

“Still, feeling left out, aren't you?” Peter remarked. “Don't worry, that will change.”

Lydia was not sure how much she would welcome such a change but as they finally came closer to her street, she was distracted. There was feeling of relief. She had not really believed that Peter had been lying about driving her home, but seeing that they headed into the right direction was even better. Although, it made the whole experience almost seem like an unreal dream. He had drugged her, forced her into some perverted sex ritual and yet Lydia felt more like coming home from a date. A date she might have had mixed feelings about, but that had rather pleasantly. Like having a really bad argument with Jackson and then after some angry sex, things turning rather well. She was still upset and confused about last night but she could not bring herself to figure out what she was feeling. That would take some time on her own.

Of that she would have more than enough this night. As they pulled up in her street, she could see the dark house. Her parent's car was gone, which meant they had not noticed anything and gone on their trip as planned. Lydia sighed. It was a good thing - better than them panicking and her having to explain where she had been. Yet, she was not all that happy thinking about that empty house.

“Delivered you back, safe and sound.”

Peter stopped the Jeep directly in front of it. Unsure what to say, Lydia opened the door and got out. Part of her suggested just walking away but then she turned back with one hand ready to close the door.

“What happens after the next dream, how will I know that I got it right?”

Leaning a bit into the car, Lydia realised too late that this might not have been the best position given the low cut of her dress and the way the new bra shaped her décolletée. Peter just smirked but did raise his gaze after a few seconds to look at her face.

“Don't worry, I will stay in touch. Tonight - just try to enjoy the rest of your birthday.”

“I'll try doing that.”

Her sarcasm came through again and she slammed the door shut. As she strolled towards the front door, Peter simply started the car and drove off. Breathing once more with relief, despite not really feeling up to being alone, she got her key from her handbag. She unlocked the door quickly and rushed inside, locking it even faster. As she turned, suddenly the light in the living room went on.

“Surprise!”

Lydia almost dropped her handbag, but caught the strap with her elbow. That was unexpected, but for some reason her friends had been waiting for her. Jumping out from behind the couches and the door to the kitchen. It was so unexpected that she barely had time to defend herself against the traditional next part of these surprise parties.

“If you’re going to sing, I am going to scream.”

That got them to laugh, but it seemed like apart from Stiles nobody was really that keen on doing that. From what she had learnt, her screams could be quite painful for werewolves, so it remained beautifully quiet when it came to singing. Aidan was the first to approach her, but before he reached her she just had to satisfy her curiosity.

“Weren't you two supposed to be out of town?” she asked Scott.

“We are going tomorrow,” Scott said from behind the couch.

Stiles nodded. “You did not think, we’ll leave you alone on your birthday. Especially, since the last one got ...”

Then Aidan was drawing her into a kiss. “You look absolutely amazing, birthday girl.”

For a moment, Lydia just went along with it, then she ended it far quicker than usual. Something about it felt wrong, but he did not seem to notice. Given that there were six more people coming up to her, hugging and congratulating her, she had not time to think about that. It was actually, nice combination of the party. They were four couples, well that is if one wanted to count Scott and Stiles as one.

Danny and Ethan gave her a small package, which she was sure was some sort of jewellery. -Danny hugged her and Ethan kissed her on the cheek, both complimenting her on her choice of outfit. Making her cheeks burn so much that even the non-werewolves were seeing it. Allison agreed on their sentiment, with Isaac enthusiastically joining in, even though, he seemed a bit unsure if that was the right choice judging by the side glance toward Allison. Lydia had still not figured out if those two were still just friendly or very friendly. After she congratulated her, Allison told her with a smirk, that she had left her present upstairs on her bed, while Isaac handed her something that seemed to be a big textbook by the feel and weight of the package.

She put those on the couch table and let Stiles hug her. As usually it was somewhat awkward. Not just given that he had this crush on her and she had just grown used to him as being a good friend. He was one more person to tell her how great she looked and this time she was not the only one who was blushing. At least this time, Stiles' present was not as embarrassingly large and awkward. It was an envelope with a bow pinned on top of it. Scott was bit more reserved, but also could not help on saying that her dress looked nice. Which was fine with her. At least his package was not that obvious.

Lydia sighed, realising she would have to open them eventually. For now, they all sat down, Aidan holding on very tightly to her waist.

“We just prepared some light snacks, knowing that you would come from dinner with your parents.”

Allison said pointing to the bowls of chips and sweets standing around, as she settled down with Isaac on the two seater. Danny and Ethan took the larger couch and Stiles sat down on the edge with Scott settling onto the armchair that completed the couch set.

“Yeah, how was dinner with your parents?” Stiles asked.

“Fine,” Lydia said. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Then she put down the other presents and rushed upstairs to her bedroom. When she came from her bathroom, Allison was knocking at the open door. “Heh? Everything okay?”

“Yes, yes, I am okay - just a bit tired and really surprised.”

“I hope you are not disappointed, given that you always had such great parties ...”

Lydia shrugged. “The last one was not that great.”

“Yeah, best forget about that one, I don't think that was such a particularly good time for either of us,” Allison said as her gaze fell upon something on Lydia's desk. “Oh my, from Aidan?”

With that she snatched up the little jewellery box on it. The moment her friend commented on how gorgeous the earrings were, Lydia knew somehow that it was not Aidan's present. Quickly, she snatched the little card that was underneath. It read, Sweet Dreams, Peter.

Her eyes darted to the ceiling, as she nearly crumbled the note between her fingers. It was so typical of him. Just as she almost had been able to push him and the events aside, he just managed to intrude once more. The worst part, Allison was right, those earrings were fantastic. Beautiful enough to wonder if she should throw them into his face or just the empty box.

Considering everything, she did deserve some compensation and it did not have to mean that he was buying her forgiveness. In a way it made her even more angry.

“Yes, it is gorgeous, I guess he did not want the others to know. Not that your presents won't be great.”

Taking the box from Allison's hand, she quickly closed it and threw it into the drawer of her night stand.

“I certainly hope so, although mine is more practical. Did a little online shopping on my aunt's account.”

“Your aunt, the one that burned down the Hale place?” Lydia asked surprised.

Allison sat on the bed, next to her package. “I know, seems a bit off. But since were are not old enough to buy toys ... I figured why not?”

“Toys?” A knowing smile rushed over Lydia's face as she lifted the lid of the gift box. “Oh my ...”

“I figured, you can never have enough of these, and then some ...”

Lydia raised a pair of fur covered handcuffs causing Allison to smile. “They only had pink, baby-blue and tiger-stripes, I somehow thought the tiger one was more fitting.”

“Wow, can't believe you remembered that one,” Lydia pointed to the butterfly shaped toy that lay amongst a stack of condoms and three tubes of lube.

“Girls?” Isaac called to them from the hallway.

With a quick motion the cuffs went back in and the lid was closed. “Just a second.”

Giggling for a bit longer, Lydia had at least for the moment other things on her mind. After she went down, things actually turned rather pleasant. In fact, she realised that there was something more pleasant about a smaller party than a large one with people she barely knew. It felt utterly normal to sit around her couch table, snuggled up against her not-boyfriend just having fun like teenagers had, or at least those not hell-bent on getting drunk.

Although normalcy was a bit relative, since four of the people around her table were werewolves. Which also left one werewolf for each team. After outvoting the Twins, they decided to play Trivial Pursuit, to allow for an easier flow they paired up making for a far livelier game. They were actually fairly evenly matched, although Allison and Isaac were eventually falling behind, near the end it came down to a race between Lydia with Aidan and Stiles with Scott.

Since Aidan's pop culture knowledge was not much better than Lydia's eventually they lost to them. In the end, everyone had fun. Lydia had the feeling that the Twins were also still in the process of getting used to all that normalcy. This was far step from running around with a pack of bloodthirsty killers, considering all they knew before was abuse. It was probably surprising they were even able to sit there and joke around with them.

“Another round?” Allison asked.

“Aw, I am afraid I need to get home ...” Danny said. “My mom is coming home from her late night shift in an hour.”

Lydia would have liked for this to last longer but as she looked at the clock it was almost 2 am.

“We got to leave early, too. Deaton will call us with the location where we might find Derek first thing in the morning,” Scott weighed in.

“Look it's okay - it was a great party. Maybe one of these days, we can do it again - when less strange murders are happening?”

“That would be nice,” Ethan agreed.

It took about half an hour till everyone had said their goodbyes. Ten minutes later, it was just Aidan who stayed with her, very close to her. Lydia felt him moving behind her, running his hands over her sides but as he leaned down to kiss her neck, she found herself stepping forward overtaken by a sudden chill.

“What?” Aidan said disappointed.

Lydia shrugged. “Sorry, just too tired.”

Hoping that a half-truth would not trip him off, that the real reason was entirely different. Feeling him pressing against her like that, was only making her recall the way Peter had done the same. Just that he really knew how to use his hands. Either way, Lydia knew she was not up for sex. But she turned and gave Aidan an apologetic smile. After all it was not his fault that she already had her fair share of birthday sex.

“Well, then how about I carry you upstairs and keep you all warm and ...” he kissed her.

“I think I sleep better alone.”

It felt really bad rejecting Aidan, especially since he was always so respectful, always ready to stop when she demanded it. In that regard he was so very unlike Peter. Lydia placed a consoling kiss on Aidan's lips then walked off. “You know, if the couch is not inviting enough, there are few guest rooms that are always made.”

The frustration was tangible but it was better that way. Every time they had just meant to spend the night sleeping in one bed, they had been doing more than that. Tonight she knew she would only give him false hope. Maybe after a good night's rest in her own bed, without a werewolf around, she would come around and things could go back to normal.


	5. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after her birthday Lydia decides not to wait on Peter and do some research on her own about active dreaming and also makes some unsettling discoveries ...
> 
> _Aidan came closer and waited until she looked up. Laying his hand on her cheek he said: “Maybe hearing us put all the pieces together, gives you an insight.”_  
>  _“It does not work that way,” she took his hand off, but held onto it for a moment. “I can not control it, right now I do not even remember clearly what I’ve dreamt.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my beta [raktajinos](http://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/profile) for going through this long chapter. As always [Emeraldawn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldawn/) and [calrissian18](http://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18) for doing word wars with me and chat Teen Wolf.
> 
>  
> 
> [Chapter 4 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-4-happybirthday)

The good thing about the morning was, that Lydia did not awake screaming her head off. There was something unpleasant lingering on, a feeling of dread and terror in the aftermath of waking which she usually pushed away. Grateful that nasty images did not haunt her for a change. Only know she forced herself to hold onto that unpleasantness. Lying in bed, her eyes still closed, she focused on what she was feeling.

It was hard to tell why she felt the way she did. There was this awful smell that even now felt almost real. The smell of decay would certainly explain that feeling of dread, even though it was not human decay. Apart from knowing what that smelled like due to the nightmares she had gotten from Peter, it smelled too much like rotten fish.

There were voices in the darkness. It was more whispers or maybe just the wind. Maybe the darkness was because she was not able to remember the dream. Lydia kept thinking that nothing was scarier than a place without light and something moving, when she knew that something was there in her dream.

Sitting up, she took a few deep breaths. It was a lot harder to shake off that gnawing feeling of terror now that she had embraced it. Something that Peter had not bothered to warn her about. Probably served her right for doing exactly what he had suggested.

‘Idiot,’ she thought and meant herself.

Once her anger passed, she realised that of course focusing on a nightmare would be terribly unpleasant. She was not sure what her dream might mean or if it was useful at all. For all she knew she might have some weird recall due to the images Peter planted in her mind about a year ago.

There was something she could not pinpoint, that made her look for something to write it all down, just on the off chance that it was going to be significant. Sighing she turned and rummaged through her drawer. Her little notebook she found easily, but before she was able to locate a pen, her fingers touched a little box. Another reminder of Peter’s intrusion on her life. She shoved it deeper into the back and then got a hold of a pencil. Leaning back, she wrote down what she had experienced in her recall.

Finally, she shut the book and threw it into the drawer. Lydia decided it was high time for a good long shower. If she was lucky today there would be no more weirdness, apart maybe from having her sort of werewolf boyfriend sleep on the couch downstairs. All in all she hardly considered that unusual anymore. She was pretty used to the werewolf part of her life. Except for those moments when that included tearing and shredding. With the Alpha pack finally broken up or dead, that had not been going on for a while now.

Slipping out of her nightgown, Lydia looked at herself in the large mirror. Apart from the two old scars there was not a mark on her. It was like it never happened, she did not even felt like she had exhausting sex recently. Yet, there was that gorgeous dress, which she had hung up on her semi-open walk-in-closet last night. Lydia was convinced that Peter had followed a strategy even after they had performed that ritual.

Lydia had the feeling, he wanted make her seem like a liar if she told the others about what happened. He wondered how he had set up the surprise party, there had to be some proof of his involvement. The others would certainly not believe he did that just to apologize for ruining her party last year. At least she hoped her friends would choose to believe her, if she decided that she needed to tell them.

Rushing into the shower, she let pleasantly hot water run over her body. Maybe it was indeed best to just forget what had happened. Last year she was even more messed up and had eventually worked through all of that mostly on her own. Lots of distracting sex with Jackson before his departure to London had helped as well.

In hindsight, she was more than glad that she had not opened up to Miss Morrell. Good advice or not, Lydia did not trust her. There was an air about her and the clear fact that she had known what her drawing meant and not said anything. Since the lunar eclipse, Lydia had not been called back into the office for more pointless talks.

Reaching for a towel, she first dried of her hair a bit before wrapping it around her head. Wrapped in a huge towel, she went back to her room, intend to find a suitable outfit for the day. Or she would have if she did not find Aidan sitting on her bed. He lounged, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. Lydia realised that if she looked for distraction she might have found that.

“Morning,” she said and walked over to kiss him.

Aidan acted as is he was not particularly interested, playing it cool as she remained casually draped over her sheets. It was hard to resist such a gorgeous set up: there was something about his well pronounced, muscular body practically begging to be ravished that called forth her own libido.

Lydia figured he was still upset about last night, usually he was not playing the reluctant lover. Even when he was not particularly sure where to put his hands, he had seldom shown reservations. It was a challenge she felt like taking: winning over the brooding, slightly unwilling boy toy. Not that she pegged the battle as particularly hard.

Lowering the towel a bit more to reveal more of her breasts, she put one knee on the bed to lean over him. At first she acted as if she wanted to simply kiss him but instead choose bend down closer to his neck. She had long since figured out that it drove him crazy in the best of ways when she was teasing the right spot. It took her a few seconds before she was sucking gently where the shoulder met the neck.

A moan escaped Aidan as she tested the area, slowly moving closer to where she knew he would not hold back for long. Her mission was almost accomplished when he roughly grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away. It was not hard enough to get her off the bed but Lydia felt that it was not a playful shove either.

“What?” she asked angry.

One did not get Lydia Martin all worked up and then decided to pull the brakes. He had been the one to walk into her room without knocking, draping himself provocatively on her bed. That move was just not right.

“How come, everytime you are in the mood, we are doing it, but when I feel I like it you can simply say no?” Aidan lamented.

Blood rushed through her body, but this time from between her legs to her cheeks. It was probably the dumbest thing Aidan had ever said to her. Lydia was overwhelmed by how much of a turn-off this was. Usually, she was not that easy to put out of her mood but this got really under her skin and in an irrational emotions flaring up way, too.

“You know what, forget it!” Lydia snapped.

With a fluid move she got up and wanted to head away from the bed, when she felt Aidan’s hand on her arm. Brushing it off, she ignored his surprised protest and head over to her closet.

“What’s the matter? I was just pointing out that I simply can’t seem to resist you …” Aidan said.

The tone in his voice, was so genuinely hurt but with a hint of annoyance, that she did not even know what to say to that. On the one hand she wanted to apologize for being so abrasive, on the other hand she wanted to tell him that he should maybe stick to saying less. Talking was really not his strength and sexy, complementary talk had not worked out well before.

“Look, the moment is gone - take a cold shower.”

With one quick step back into the room, she gestured at her door giving him a quick lock. The cute thing about Aidan was that, whenever he looked like a kicked puppy, he also looked like he wanted to bite your arm off. Although today that did not really help to win her over.

“Fine.”

Aidan did indeed sound angry, like she really had done it this time. She half expected him to walk out of her room but he did went for the shower. That at least gave her time to get dressed and think a bit. Picking a skin-tight pair of jeans, she put on her long, high-heeled boots and then just standing there with her bra on went through the tops.

Noticing the missing dress with the buttons, she asked herself if Aidan’s comment had only gotten her so upset because the night before she had not exactly wondered what Derek, or whoever it had been, might have said to the sex. Not that she had really been able to think much. She ruffled through her hair, which was still a bit too wet. Going back to that night her mind told her that it had been so wrong but if she recalled it, she had a hard time remembering anything past the arousal and intense orgasms.

If not for a few drops of cold water falling onto her back, she could have lost herself in the memory of that. Then poor Aidan would have been really perplexed if she went after him again. Instead she forced herself to think clothes, finally choosing a combo with a long-armed, white undershirt and a more loose short-armed top. She had just tuck the white shirt in her jeans and fastened the belt, when Aidan came back into the room. He was dripping and naked.

“Do you have any larger towels?” he said with a big grin.

Lydia took one from her closet and threw it over. “You know, that might work better next time if you don’t actually take a cold shower.”

With that she pulled over the final top and and headed out of the door. Not sure if Aidan would stay for breakfast, being not that hungry herself, she just grabbed a light snack, while listening to noises coming from upstairs. She just had gotten something fixed, some cereal with fresh fruits, as she heard him coming downstairs. After a brief moment, he joined her in the kitchen. He was clearly not planning to stick around, since he was wearing his jacket.

“Do you want me to pick you up later?” he asked. “I assume you don’t want to come with me now …”

“Did I forget a date or something?”

The moment she said that, she remembered. Yesterday before leaving, Allison had mentioned that they were going to meet at noon at her place, to see if they can come up with a strategy. Mostly it would serve to compare notes and compile everything they had found out so far. It was certainly a good idea, but she did not feel like going herself.

“I meant the meeting at the Argent’s place.”

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t think I’ll go. Its not like I can contribute anything and Allison can tell me later what the consensus is.”

Aidan came closer and waited until she looked up. Laying his hand on her cheek he said: “Maybe hearing us put all the pieces together, gives you an insight.”

“It does not work that way,” she took his hand off, but held onto it for a moment. “I can not control it, right now I do not even remember clearly what I’ve dreamt.”

It was frustrating for her to realise that she just did not have the means to contribute constructively. This was something she had to figure out by herself, it was not like she could ask anyone for advice, since she knew what everyone would say: Stay away from Peter. They had no idea what it was like to sense that there was something just lurking to come out and being unable to let it.

Others counting on her to figure something out was not exactly helping the situation. At first, she had just tried to ignore it, merely humouring Stiles when had brought that Ouija board to school. Then she had ended up drawing the tree, something she had also tried ending up with her drawing eyes. Over and over again, sometimes open, sometimes closed, big and small.

“Well, if there is anything … you know call.”  
“Don’t worry, if I find myself taking a nap and then have the urge to find a dead body, I will call you first thing.”

Aidan shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”  
“Oh,” she found herself saying, as she got his meaning. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“In case you change your mind, the meeting starts at 2pm. You stay with us, or I could come over, whatever you prefer.”

“I’ll have to see,” Lydia said finding herself rescued by the phone ringing.

Her parents called, complaining that her cell phone was turned off and the line inside the house busy all day long. As she greeted her parents and made excuses, saying she had problems with her loading cable, Aidan gave her a kiss on the cheek and mouthed a good-bye. He knew her mother well enough to know that this would take a while. Lydia got belated birthday well-wishes and the information that they had put money and gift certificates in an envelope on her father’s desk. It seemed that ever since her parents got back together, they were giving less thought to her presents. In the past years, her mother had least always found the time for some mother-daughter shopping at her favourite mall. It might not seem much but it seemed those moments were getting rarer and rarer.

After the call, she finished her breakfast and decided to put her birthday money to good use. Remembering that in November a new bookstore had opened, one that dealt with esoteric content, she decided to finally give it a look. There was still this feeling of complete bias against this pseudo-scientific, half-baked magic stuff, but some of it had to be coming close to the truth.

Werewolves were real, she was a banshee and whatever that meant, was reason enough to believe that maybe some answer were to be found in the oddest places. First she had to fix her hair and makeup. By the time she got out of the house it was already close to 11 am. Lydia hoped the store was open today.

Her worries that she might need to return on monday were unfounded, the open sign hang inside the door. There was also a whole lot of other stuff visible in the door and the windows: crosses of all kinds, chinese symbols and the like, dragon, bat and other pendants were displayed next to crystals and books pertaining to the history or use of whatever object was shown.

Lydia pushed open the door and gentle jingle was heard. The inside of the store was not that different from the windows, between the books were glass cabinet with jewelry and stones, the books themselves were sorted by topics, except for a shelves in the back of the shop. Those books were noticeably older.

“Good morning.”  
The female voice greeted Lydia, who was a bit freaked out since turning around did not reveal anyone close by. It was only when she looked up, that Lydia saw a woman crouching on top of a shelf busy exchanging a light bulb. Once she was done, she jumped down landing with catlike grace a few steps from her.

“Sorry, if I startled you.”

“Sorry, yes - good morning. For a moment, I thought I was hearing voices ...” she acted as if that was a joke but the awfulness of that possibility was making it more a bitter confession.

“You are new here …”

Luckily the voice and the woman were very real. Lydia could not help but stare, since the Korean woman in front of her was not really what she had expected from an esoteric bookshop employee or maybe owner. While clearly in her thirties, the slender, very athletic woman was looking more like someone bound to a heavy metal concert. Instead of long, woolen skirts, a perky pair of glasses and self-knitted sweaters, it was tight black leather pants, heavy steel-capped boots and a armless shirt with a transparent back section. Then there were those tattoos and the three piercings, Lydia smiled and forced herself to say something before her staring became obvious.

“I am, I was looking for something … a book about dreaming.” That made the woman laugh for some reason. “What is so funny about that?” Lydia wanted to know.

“I just heard the skeptic tone, so I wonder is it a gift for a believer or are you having bad dreams …”

“No, my dreams are just fine.” It was the standard reply, whenever she got asked by an adult about her dreams. At least one that did not knew better. Lydia wondered what made this woman so spot on about it. Since she was looking for something, there was no need to be totally abrasive about the issue. “I just used to be able to remember what I dreamt. At least most of the time, lately … not so much.”

The woman nodded listening to her without interrupting her. It seemed that while her skepticism was noticed, Lydia was still welcome. She was observed with curious eyes and wondered how much older the woman actually was. If she had to guess she would say she was not quite her parent’s age but she seemed older than Derek.

“What made you decide to come here?” she asked eventually, then added: “I am usually at first name basis with my customers, so feel free to call me, Yoon - Lydia.”

Hearing a name sent a slight shock through her and removed the colour from her face. That was really not what Lydia had needed from this visit. “How do you know my name?”

Yoon held a hand in front of her mouth, she was clearly laughing even though her eyes rolled up as if she was embarrassed. “Oh, I am so sorry. It’s part of my role here - to give the impression that I am psychic. I read an article in the newspaper a few days ago. They mentioned that over a year ago there had also been animal attacks and that only one person attacked survived. There was a picture with your name. I guess you being so skeptical I wanted to impress you and did not even think that through.”

Of course, there was nearly always a non-supernatural explanation. It must be that stupid dream, that stupid ritual, the whole situation that had her on the edge.

“I just slept reasonably unwell,” Lydia said. “At any rate, it’s good to know that you don’t actually believe you are psychic.”

“Hardcore skeptic, but I got those as customers as well. What exactly are you looking for then? A way to remember your dreams?” Yoon was back to business, but the smile had now disappeared and she did look apologetic.

Lydia shrugged, she did not want to sound too nutty after having made her point that she was not fooled by the fake esoteric stuff. Being skeptic was that much harder if there was actual something supernatural. It was almost impossible to make the point that a lot of this was contrived when she herself tended to wake up in the middle of the night with the urge to find torn up bodies.

“Active Dreaming,” she recalled the term Peter had used. “A friend mentioned that to me, do you have anything about this.”

That explanation brought up another big smile to Yoon’s face. “Hmm, a friend … well let me see what we got and if there is anything useful among these volumes.”

Lydia followed Yoon as she took course towards another shelf, the one that was closer to the back with the older books. All the time she had a clearer view of the tattoos on her back and arms. They were all in the black tribal style, one was over her heart in some sort of spiral pattern, the others had spiral elements but were more lengthy or contained others patterns. Lydia could not help but think that they did look beautiful on her even though she was not a fan of tattoos.

“That must have hurt a lot,” Lydia found herself saying.

“Oh, yes, it did!” Yoon turned briefly to give her a knowing smile. “But it was worth it.”

“It’s very you.”

It certainly fit her style, even though, her style did not seem to fit the rest of this store. Then again what did Lydia know about esoteric book stores? In this town was nothing as it seemed anyway. After all she was bringing her injured boyfriend to the vet and not the hospital. At the shelf with the older books, Yoon crouched and looked at the row of books in the shelf over the bottom one.

When she rose again, she was was holding a thick volume with an unimpressive beige cover in her hands. It looked like it was bound fifty-sixty years ago. “The Art of Dreaming,” Yoon read. “By Salanda Melbourne. If you want more control over your dreams, that is what will help you.”

Lydia took the offered book and looked at the cover and back. There was no ISBN number, even beyond that it seemed as if was privately published by a someone called BlackTorn Publishing. The content table showed the book was separated into three parts: the nature of dreams, followed by the dangers of dreaming and the active dreamer.

“Wow, that is … sort of interesting,” Lydia commented still not sure if this was any good. Chances were that this book might help her or be total waste of time and money. Figuring that she was a fast reader and this was not exactly heavy lecture, she asked Yoon for the price.

“Oh, just take it. It’s my apology for being so insensitive earlier. If you don’t like it, you can bring it back and look for a gift for a friend - but I think you will find it useful. It’s not like this new age nonsense. It is written by someone who knows what is what.”

“Okay,” Lydia said not sure if she should accept the offer. As she contemplated the question, she had a few more for Yoon. “So, you do believe that there is more to all this?”

“I don’t believe, I know.” After a dramatic pause, she continued. “It is just most of the time, it is all fake. But once in awhile, we do cross paths with the real thing. I might not be psychic but I can tell the difference between a fake and a true psychic.”

“But you fake it.”

“Ah, you keep thinking that I am deceiving my customers, by pretending to be something I am not.” Yoon laughed again, making Lydia wonder why that accusation amused her so much. “I give people what they want, but I don’t go around pretend I can find lost puppies or children. If I am asked I always tell them how I know. They still come, if people believe a little dose of reality won’t turn them away. Although occasionally some start to question things, then they still come back.”

Lydia began to understand where Yoon was coming from. “You are also a skeptic.”

“You’ve seen right through me.”

Then they heard the soft jingle from the door as an another customer entered the store. It was strange but Lydia had the feeling that Yoon had heard the electric bell before her. That was another oddity, if there was ever a shop that should have a real bell hanging over the door, it was this one.

“Well, why don’t you read the book, see if it helps you. If you got more question, please come back, Lydia.”

“Okay, Yoon. I take the book. Thanks.”

Pressing the book against her chest, she said goodbye and then walked past down the corridor wondering why the customer immediately had crept out of sight. She caught a glimpse of the man and knew that she had seen him somewhere before. Then she left the store and hurried to her car.

Curious to read a bit more she flung open the book and studied the introduction, which still seemed rather pseudo-scientific to her. Then again, this was not exactly science. There seemed to be rules to all of this but if anyone knew them it was only the druids and to a lesser degree the werewolves. At least, some werewolves seemed to know stuff. She was not so sure about Scott or Isaac and even the Twins seemed to know very little about the legends and old rules. Probably, because that was only shared between the emissary and their alphas and from what she could see so far, that was on a strict need to know basis.

Halfway through the first page of chapter one, her cell phone rang. It was Stiles.

“Heh Lydia, hope you slept well - no weird dreams?”

“Not really and no, I’d had no special insights either …”

“That is okay, I just wanted to call because we are going to be away until Tuesday.”

She almost did not asked this but realising she had to know, she brought it up regardless.

“And you are sure that Derek is there?” Lydia closed the book and put it on the passenger seat.

“Deaton said, that his colleague had seen Derek and Cora with the pack just Thursday, so they should be there.”

“Wednesday, when Wednesday?”

But she knew it hardly mattered, there was just no time for Derek to slip away unnoticed, get possessed and be accidentally found by Peter. If they needed that long to get there, then nothing added up. She had known it right away but somehow she had pushed it aside, because if the other werewolf had been Derek, that was sort of okay. Given the chance she would not kick him out of her bed, even though he was bit too brodish for her taste. Maybe that was why she had known, possessed or not possessed, Derek was cute. The other werewolf had not been.

“I don’t know,” Stiles said sounding annoyed, then suddenly worried. “Lydia?”

Her breath came too fast and too hard. It was only by the third time, a silent Lydia came from the phone that she picked it up from her lap.

“Yes, what?”

“Everything alright?”

“Yes, I am okay. Look Aidan already volunteered as my call pal while you are out of town. You know, in case I get the urge again …”

Stiles was not good at hiding his devastating disappointment. “Okay, that is good.”

“I need to get going, call me when you found Derek, will you?”

It was a hassle to keep herself together and sound unbothered, when part of her wanted to tell him what was going on. With Derek out of the equation it seemed more likely that nobody would find out; at least the more hefty details. If those never came out, that was alright with her.

It was not that she was shy about her sex life but that had been a number too kinky even for her. Then there was the fear that they won’t believe her or that they go after Peter. While she doubted that they would kill him again, she did not felt that the situation warranted a violent solution. If there was a solution to the problem. For that she would need to know what exactly the problem was.

The lack of information made it impossible to make an informed decision, which meant she needed to go to the meeting. Not so much for more details on the killings but she did need a few questions answered that only a werewolf could answer or maybe a werewolf hunter. Lydia looked at the clock and realised it was way too early. Nonetheless, she decided to drive over right away.

It was shortly after noon, when she parked her car behind Allison’s. Given that she could either go up to the Twin’s apartment and ask them questions or take a crack at Allison’s father, it seemed obvious that the latter was the more sensible option. Aidan was a lot easier to get a hold on.

Then her phone rang again, this time it was Allison. “Hi Allison,” Lydia greeted her.

“Hi, em I was wondering, will you come over later?”

“No - I am not coming over later,” she replied and heard her friend’s disappointed “Oh”.

“I am already here, actually,” Lydia explained. “Is it okay if I come up?”

“That is perfect, Dad is cooking dinner and we were hoping you might want to join us.”

Allison’s voice lightened right up. The way she had initially sounded, Lydia had the feeling her friend felt like she had reason to be worried. As she walked over the elevator, she realised that in all likelihood Stiles must have called her. She had after all dropped the phone and not replied to him for a few moments.

She was greeted cheerfully at the door by Allison. In the background she heard cooking noises. At least, her friend’s father could cook unlike either of Lydia’s parents: they were better at fancy appetisers and having the catering service on speed dial. Yet, it had always been equally uncomfortable to eat over at either place for them.

At first, because Allison’s mom was so weird when it had come to her, then of course because she was no longer there leaving a gaping hole at the dinner table. Lydia knew that Allison was still bitter about it, although more due to the sheer absurdity of the situation. After all, if anyone knew how to keep a werewolf under control under the full moon it was her parents. If they only killed werewolves that had killed innocent people, then why should hunters take their own life.

It sometimes seemed to her that all their families were absolutely messed up. Hers were casually disinterested in her life or at least those aspects that did not fit in their hush-hush view of life. Allison’s was made up of psychos and sometimes she had the feeling that Chris Argent who ran around chasing werewolves was the most normal of the bunch. Stiles’ father was one step away of being an alcoholic and only lately had begun getting closer with Stiles. That made Scott almost the runner up for having the most normal parents, given that his mom was pretty much the most down to earth stable person Lydia could think off. She never really had met his father but since he was with the FBI, he could not be that totally messed up.

Allison suggested that she might taste what her father was cooking, while she was setting the table. While she was sure that Chris would not botch up the dinner, as his meals had always been edible, it might give her a chance to ask him a question or two.

“Hello, Mr. Argent,” Lydia greeted him.

The last time, she had seen Allison’s father was in a khaki outfit with mud encrusted boots, two guns and a crossbow reading tracks in blood sprayed ground. It was a stark contrast seeing him with a pink and white apron as he stood at the stove in front of something that looked like a hybrid between a wok and a pan. From the smell he was cooking something mediterranean.

“Heh, happy belated birthday wishes,” he said. “I hope you are doing okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Lydia realised that she had sounded way too hostile and smiled. “Sorry, everyone just wants to know if I had dreams lately. But I don’t, none that I recall. I wish everyone would like ask my opinion on things in general.”

His expression softened as she had gone on. He kept opening the glass lid and stirred what was underneath. It definitely smelled delicious. “I understand, from what Allison told me, you have also been good at translation old texts. That is an extremely valuable talent as well. Even though you do not feel comfortable with weapons that might be something you could look into.”

“Yeah, that for example, then I am also capable to put information together or analyse it. I don’t want to butt in on the running around the woods. I had my share of that.”

Lydia was a bit taken back by her own anger. So far she had mostly ignored the feelings of being left out, after all she had rejected Allison’s offer to learn how to fire a gun. It just gave her a weird feeling holding a weapon created for the purpose of killing in her hand. She could not quite explain it. Just because because she was not interested in the physical stuff did not mean she wanted to be excluded from everything else. Sometimes she was just left out, as she did not necessarily want to go canvassing through the woods.

“Aren’t you afraid that emerging yourself deeper into what is happening might actually make things worse? Maybe to keep out of it, keeps your intuitions at bay ...” Chris suggested.

“If my father was actually concerned, he might sound like this,” Lydia said and smiled back. It was sort of touching to hear the genuine concern without any belitteling. “When I first drove out to find a body … I was pretty much out of the loop, so I doubt it.”

He nodded and his face turned all concerned. “Oh yes, the boy at the pool.”

“I’ve been wondering, with druids out there, werewolves … is there more, if so could something like spirits and demons exist?”

“Thinking about messing around with Ouija boards?” He looked at her for a moment, but if Lydia knew to deflect one thing it was the critical stare of an adult. “These things certainly exist, however, from what I understand, the more unnatural they are the less likely we are to encounter them. Spirits, like actual haunted places exist. Demons I am not so sure about, what the church does for example, has not anything to with actual supernatural entities. Either way, I suggest not mess with these things.”

She was wondering how the Argents knew these things, if they did hunt other things as well. Then again, Allison had told Lydia that her father had asked her to keep on eye on her after she had been bitten. . When it turned out she was no werewolf they lost interest quickly.

“But real exorcisms exist?” she pressed on.

Chris shrugged: “As far as I know, the only way to get rid of a demon, that is according to my father’s books - is to kill the person.”

“Oh.”  
Lydia had hoped for a different answer. It need not be the truth, just because a book owned by Allison’s psychotic grandfather was saying as much. Yet, it was disconcerting.


	6. Brainstorming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attending the brainstorming session about what to do about the killings, Lydia eventually finds out who the mystery werewolf from the devious sex ritual at the cabin was.
> 
> _“So, given that we know about at least two homicidal werewolves - anyone has any idea what they have been up to?”_  
>  _Ethan shook his head. “We have not heard from Deucalion since that night.”_  
>  _“Then what about the other guy, the Hale guy?” Stiles’ dad asked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not beta-read, I am sorry about that but I still have not found a new beta. I have looked over this twice and hoped I caught the worst mistakes. But given the length of the story, the pairing its difficult finding someone.
> 
> But since I kept you waiting so long, I though I give you a new chapter ... but I might change few minor details and at the very least remove mistakes when someone points them out to me.
> 
>  
> 
> [Chapter 5 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-5-themorningafter)

After Lydia had remembered that she was supposed to taste the food, she had gotten out of the kitchen pretty fast. The conversation with Allison’s father had not answered all her questions and what she had found out so far did not encourage her to dig deeper. It was like knowing that eventually she was going to uncover something hideous.

With Allison so obviously determined to keep Lydia distracted from whatever gloomy thoughts crept upon her, it was easy to forget about finding answers for the moment. They sat down at the dinner table and waited for Allison’s father to bring the most important thing: the pan with that delicious smelling and even better tasting mediterranean dish. It did not actually had a name but was a combination of tomatoes, zucchini, bell peppers, some onions and pasta.

Dinner started out rather well, the food arrived, everyone expressed the usual formalities and Chris commented that Lydia thought there was enough salt in the dish, as well. Allison replied by adding a little extra salt. It was followed by an odd silent as everyone seemed to wait until the portion on their plates had cooled down a bit.

“So, I heard Aidan come home earlier this morning,” Chris eventually said before taking a bite.

“Dad,” Allison rolled her eyes at him.

“What? I can’t help but feeling concerned for Lydia. I can tolerate you hanging out with Isaacs - given that you are just friends and he seems to have come around pretty well. But those two - especially Aidan - they are dangerous.”

The three of them poked around in their food, then Lydia continued to eat. After she had swallowed her next spoonful, she said: “I know, they killed people, they helped to murder Boyd - but Aidan never harmed me, he always respects when I say no and he came through for me when it mattered. So I really think he is more of a danger for everyone else, than for me, especially if that someone else is taking advantage of me.”

“Is there someone taking advantage of you?” Allison suddenly asked.

“What? No - I mean what type of taking advantage are we talking about?” Lydia caught herself in time. “The ghostly-voice-from-the-grave-getting-me-to-do-things or the can-you-find-the-next -dead-body-type taking advantage?”

They looked at each other for a moment, then Allison said: “Just in general …”

“No, nobody is taking advantage of me today, which is a nice a change …”

Chris sighed. “Girls, did something happen last night that I am not aware off?”

On that they agreed, they both shook their heads and went on eating. Allison eventually mentioned that Stiles called her, saying that she sort of blanked out when he had talked to her earlier. “So I did, if you need to know, Aidan was kind of being an idiot. So I was not in the mood last night and in the morning I am all over him and then he …”

Lydia was interrupted by Allison’s father coughing, as he obviously had gotten something in the wrong throat. “Really, Lydia?” he finally said after clearing his voice.

Allison laughed until it caught on and both of them were sitting at the table with a very awkward looking Chris Argent.

“Let’s get into that after dinner, then ..” Lydia said and her friend nodded.

They ended up rehashing highlights from last nights party, when they were done, they practically hurried into Allison’s room, where Lydia told her how much Aidan’s attempt at sexy talk sucked.

“So what about you and Isaac? I don’t believe for a second that your dad has no reason to not be concerned.”

Allison rolled her eyes: “Seriously, as if he has any reason to worry. I mean, if we were then you know … but we are not … “ Noticing the way Lydia looked at her, she was quick to add. “No, we are not - that’s like the problem. I don’t know, since I tried - Isaac kind of avoids being alone with me in the right environment. I think it might be his first time.”

That made a whole lot of sense to Lydia. Anyone with half a brain was able to see that something more had been going between them. It certainly was more a slow bloom and not that wild crazy frenzy that had been going on with Scott. “First times are tricky - boys don’t react well if they find out a girl has more experience and it takes forever till they got a clue what they are supposed to do.”

“Scott, never had this problem - like past the first few times …”

“Really?” Lydia said with thoughtful smile.

“Oh don’t even think about it!” Allison immediately said. “I mean, it’s not like I still …”

Leaning back triumphantly on her friend’s bed, she looked up at Allison. “No, absolutely not …not even a hint. I bet you rarely think about him anymore - if rarely is like every day.”

If one thing was obvious, it was that Scott was still into her. Lydia had been able to tell that he was just interested in Allison back when she had kissed him. At least she hoped that had been the reason for how much of dreadful kisser he was.

“I do think about him, then I remember how absolutely crazy and unhinged I felt. Like it was heaven whenever we were together and when something happened that tore us apart it hurt so bad I hardly could think straight.” Allison let herself sink down on the bed.

Lydia placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “You were hardly thinking straight when you two were together.”

“I know.” Allison pulled a face. “That’s why I really like Isaac, I feel normal with him. He makes me feel good when he is there and when he is not I don’t feel utterly lost and needy. Not that I don’t feel very comfortable with him around.”

They sat on the bed for a moment, before Allison added a question. “You think, I am making a mistake?”

“You are asking me?” Lydia said surprised. “My last boyfriend dumped me twice, generally treated me for granted. The last few guys I had sex with are all killers and you’re honestly come to me for dating advice?”

“Well, you are the only other girl, I know who also dates werewolves and you are my best friend,” she shrugged. “Besides I can ask, no guarantee I am going to listen to advice - good or bad.”

“My advice would be - if you want him - go for it. Ask him what his problem is, when it is first time anxiety, make it clear that you know what to do. That he should be able to trust you. If he does not - well - move on. Guys who can not handle strong woman are not worth pursuing.”

Allison laughed and look admiringly at her friend. “I guess, I am a little bit nervous about it, too. Like what if I can’t make up for his lack of experience? Or worse what he found out when it got serious, he just likes me?”

“If he does not want you, which I doubt very much, then at least you’ll know.” Lydia got up. “As for the first time, take it slow. Don’t rush it - make him feel comfortable with you. Let him focus on your body. That’s something you should always do. If you don’t train them up right away - they might never learn.”

Looking at her somewhat doubtful with her smile still half there, Allison eventually nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. You know sometimes I wish I had your confidence.”

“You and not being confident? You go after werewolves with a crossbow.”

“With weapons it is easy, you just shoot anyone who pisses you off. With boys - except for Scott - I always feel nervous.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. For the life of her she could not understand what Allison’s problem was. It was not like Scott had dumped her. She had broken it off and the guy was still worshiping the ground she walked on. At one point she happily described how he made her feel high on a kite and that she could not be without him. When Allison clearly could. Now, she was into Isaac because he apparently was the safer choice and that still was compounded by so many problems Lydia never had.

“What about you?” Allison suddenly asked. “Are you ever going to admit that you and Aidan got something going?”

“I told you, I don’t need a boyfriend. Being with Aidan is nice but just because I am not looking right now, does mean that I never want to.”

With a raised eyebrow, her friend said: “I’d be seriously concerned for any other guy you date.”

Lydia thought for a moment if that might be the reason why she had not been looking elsewhere. Then she shook her head. “No, Aidan can be a bit intense but he is not going to slash up my dates. At least I don’t think so. Then again he might try and scare them away.”

A smile appeared on her face, somehow she liked that idea. While she did not like that possessive behaviour, somehow the idea of a riled up super jealous Aidan had some potential. Maybe that would get him to be a bit more lively and wild in the following make-up sex. Then again, he had a way of messing up moments.

“Oh, it is almost time.”

They left Allison’s room and just on their way to her father’s study, they heard the doorbell ring. It was the twins. Lydia realised she was not really that happy about them arriving first. Aidan, however, was glad that she had come. Her friend gave her a knowing nudge, as if she wanted to say: ‘What are you waiting for?’

“Feeling better?” Ethan asked her.

Lydia nodded. “I wasn’t feeling bad to begin with.”

Immediately, she noticed the look that went between Allison and Ethan, as if they were agreeing that she was not honest with herself. The thing was, she was not feeling bad - just weird. It was like something about Aidan annoyed her. Of course, she knew what it was. Ever since that damn sex ritual Peter had dragged her into, she had been aware that sex with Aidan could never be that wild and crazy. His incredible stamina did not make up for the fact that she had to instruct him all the time. That even then, Aidan often needed time and more detailed explanations. It was frustrating to know that the best sex she had ever had, had also been the most messed up, kinky scenario she had ever found herself in. When Aidan had touched her that night after her birthday party, she had been overwhelmed by how clumsy it had felt in comparison. It was just such a difference to be with someone who knew what do with her. Sex with Aidan was really good compared to others, but it was just not as mindblowing as she’d experienced it could be.

Luckily, the others arrived pretty soon and with Chris Argent in the room, eyeing Aidan disapprovingly whenever he was close to her, Ethan got him to focus on the map spread out on the huge table with the Celtic symbol underneath. Isaac stayed on the other side of the table from Allison. The way he kept looking at her, it was clearly just so her father would not notice that there was tons of unresolved sexual tension. Lydia was sure that not wanting Allison was not the problem Isaac had.

With the Sheriff arriving, their little round for today was complete. He eyed Ethan and Aidan suspiciously, like he always did, which sometimes made her wonder what exactly Scott and Stiles had told him about the twins.

“Okay, here is what we know. There have been five animal killings, the last happening on Monday. They have all been in different locations, some in and around the woods, others in town near remote areas. The two children have been killed during the day, one in the early morning on his way to school, the second one in the afternoon on her way home. So far there is no pattern to the killings that the FBI has been able to determine.”

As he spoke he attached small yellow post it notes with details to the kill locations marked down with red circles. From the hand-writing, Lydia knew that those were done by Stiles. She had to agree with the lack of pattern. “What about the other killings, is there any connection?”

“At first we thought so, since the bodies were clearly torn and gnawed upon, the autopsy report made it clear that while an animal chewed and tore on the parts, they have been dismembered by an axe.”

That news caught anyone by surprise. “That means, that maybe those killings are not done by something unnatural after all?” Isaac was the first to come around.

“There was definitely something off with those crime scenes,” Aidan said and was then supported by Ethan. “Yes, there was a smell that felt unnatural. If it had been a mortal with an axe and trained pets -we would have smelled it.”

Chris nodded. “It is highly unlikely that a man could hack apart another body without breaking into a sweat and leaving his scent behind.”

“What else has the FBI found out about those killings?” Allison wanted to know.

The sheriff opened a folder with what seemed to be the autopsy report. “Yeah, first of the axe was not a wood chopping one but a medieval battle axe. Unlike with the animal killings, which had all different bite patterns, these have the marks of only one animal.” Taking a deep breath, he added: “That of a wolf.”

“That is impossible, there was no wolf smell on the crime scene,” Ethan said.

“Yeah, but I thought I saw wolf tracks … “ Allison’s father said trailing off for a moment. “But I dismissed it because there were no tracks anywhere around the crime scene.”

“You think, we lied to you?” Aidan bluntly said staring with crossed arms at Chris Argent.

Lydia could feel the tension clearly. The Twins had agreed to help but very reluctantly and only because Scott asked them. They still felt unwelcome, while Aidan had never said as much she had noticed. It was like they still had not figured out what to do now that the Alpha pack was gone. In theory Deucalion was still out there but since nobody had seen him since the eclipse, that had left them to figure out things on their own.

“I might have, if Scott had not made it clear that he had not smelled the scent of another werewolf either,” Chris explained. “That means, if a werewolf is responsible for these killings, he knows how to mask his scent.”

There was an uncomfortable silence, where everyone contemplated that possibility. Even though it seemed that nobody actually thought the twins were involved, at least the two adults in the room were not that comfortable with them. Then the Sheriff asked a good question.

“So, given that we know about at least two homicidal werewolves - anyone has any idea what they have been up to?”

Ethan shook his head. “We have not heard from Deucalion since that night.”

“Then what about the other guy, the Hale guy?” Stiles’ dad asked.

Isaac shrugged. “When Derek was still around, he was always hanging around, however we have not seen him since.”

“Scott said he does not even know where he lives,” Allison added.

Lydia felt like she should say something but she had no idea what. This was not the setting to share what had happened. With the last murder happening the night before he had kidnapped her, she had problems seeing him prepare the ritual and sneak upon the guard in the mall to drag him off into the next flower bed.

“We tried to track him for a time, Boyd and I, to figure out where he was living at - but we always lost his scent.”

“Maybe we need to find and ask him, then,” Allison said.

At this point, it was clear that they did went off on possibly the wrong track. Then again they might not. There was no denying that Peter had no problems to kill when it suited his agenda. There was always a reason for everything Peter had done. While the motive in this case might just be unknown to them, Lydia felt that something else was responsible. It was not just knowing that Peter had a busy schedule the past days; she had been with Aidan and Ethan when they had headed out to that murdered salesmen on the road. Whatever she had felt near that crime scene it had not been like anything she had sensed before.

“First, we need to find him,” Christ reminded them.

“I could tell my people to be on the lookout, although I believe we do not have a picture - at least none with his face intact …”

The twins raised their eyebrows in unison, since of course nobody had told them what the deal with Peter was in the past months. It was not like they were hanging out all that much. It was mostly Scott who had tried to get everyone to get along, then of course the fact that Aidan was often at her place or the other way around. Peter had not been Lydia’s topic of choice to begin with and around Aidan it just had never come up.

“Yeah, it’s a long story,” Allison said as she noticed the reaction.

Isaac nodded, then added: “I don’t think anyone has seen him since Ethan went to warn Derek.”

“Maybe he went with Derek and Cora, isn’t he their uncle or something?” Aidan asked.

“He killed their sister, so I doubt they want him along,” Chris explained.

That of course lead to more confusion and after looking at each other, it was finally Allison who began explaining the story. “This is the short, short version. Thanks to my crazy grandfather, you know the one who blinded your old boss, my aunt decided it was okay to burn down the Hale house and while Cora apparently escaped, most of the others died and Peter was badly burned in the flames. Last year about six years after the fire, he lured Laura back, who was the Alpha at this point.”

Lydia could swear that more than one light went off, as the twins listened to that explanation. Maybe they knew a few details from Deucalion, maybe they just began to realise why most of them had been ready to give them a second chance, including the Argents: if half your family was homicidal you end up being a lot more forgiving.

“He killed her so he would heal faster. Before that he was in a coma with burns covering half of his face. As soon as he was better, he went after everyone involved in the fire. When he tried to kill me, we set him on fire again and Derek slashed his throat.”

“Thus becoming the Alpha,” Ethan scoffed. “Deucalion mentioned he killed his uncle but - how is he alive after that?”

Clearing her throat, Lydia felt like it was her turn to say something. “Before he went after Allison and her aunt, he bit me and for some reason that allowed him to spook around in my head …”

Aidan looked very angry when she mentioned being bitten, when her voice trailed down a bit, she was interrupted. “He did what? But if he was an alpha …”

“... why haven’t I turned?” she interrupted his questions. “I am immune, I am something else. Anyway, one year ago he got me to knock out Derek.” At this point, both twins laughed joined by Isaac. Even the sheriff and Allison’s father were grinning a bit.

“Anyway, he knew this weird ritual and used Derek to come back from the dead. Since then he’d been lurking around. I don’t know, I didn’t see him again till we figured out where Miss Blake was keeping them and Scott’s mom hostage.” Lydia nodded into the direction of the two adults.

The sheriff cleared his throat. “Hearing the story again, makes me wonder why you trust that guy at all. I wish there was proof to arrest him for the killings but that you actually hang out with him?”

“Not for fun, he just knew stuff,” Isaac said. “I mean, Derek did not like him but I guess he wanted to hear what he had to say, for some reason.”

The urge to add to the conversation was there, but Lydia did not feel like saying anything for or against him. She rather wished that the conversation would move on and began looking again at the dates of the killings. While the animal killings were random, the two murders that had stuck out, had occurred exactly one week apart. It was not enough to determine that it was a pattern but it might be worth watching out on that night. Lydia said as much.

“Yes, we got everyone on duty that night and curfew will be moved to eight pm on that day, just to be safe. Not that we can possibly cover as much ground, we can just hope that by watching the roads, we can narrow down possible suspects by taking account who is out for work.”

Allison sighed. “I have the feeling that whoever is responsible will know how to avoid police patrols.”

“Which is why we got to be on the look out, not just for those murders. Whatever animals did kill the other people, they need to come from somewhere.” Chris looked at the werewolves at the table. “We each can cover the areas around here and here.”

Drawing circles around the two main areas near the forest where the killings had occurred, Chris began to describe how they could try and cover them, so that if the animals showed up they might be able to track them before they managed to disappear again.

“So in other words, you think the animals doing the attacks are also directed by someone?” Aidan finally said.

“Maybe even the same person, someone who bred hybrids, modified their jaws - someone like that might also keep a wolf and know how to make it seem like something else.”

“Didn’t we just agreed that the murders were done by a werewolf?” Isaac asked.

Lydia sighed. “No, that was just a possibility. Just because the killer knows how to mask their scent and Peter does the same, does not automatically point to his guilt. If someone came here, they might be aware that there are werewolves in Beacon Hills and this is just them being careful, in case that the pack present does not like what they are doing.”

To her surprise everyone was listening and either nodding or revealing that they agreed with what she had said.

“Then shouldn’t we ask Deaton, if he can make sense of what we have discovered? He said needed more information …” Isaac wondered out loud.

“Maybe he does not want to speculate,” Ethan replied. “Deucalion said, that the Emissaries like to give out advice but they seldom share actual knowledge. Like they will tell you not to do something but neglect to tell you why that is.”

The other looked skeptical but Lydia felt that this was not so far off. Not just because Peter had told her essentially the same, there was a certain reticence about Scott’s emissary that even she had noticed. That with her having barely anything to do with him. Apart from bringing by Prada for shots, going there with Stiles once and that long time during the ritual, she had not set a foot in the building.

“Then why did he make everyone kill their emissaries, too? Just because they would not share information?” Allison asked.

“Because they do give good advice,” Lydia said. “It’s not about the knowledge they withheld, it was the wisdom they might share. Decaulion didn’t want outside influence.”

“I think, Lydia nailed it.” Aidan suddenly said. “I mean, Morell was not lying about him killing Ennis. The moment she said it, he tried to kill her.”

There was such disappointment and bitterness in his voice that Lydia could not help but take a step closer and wrap her arm around his waist. Much to her surprise, he did not made any stupid comments and just pulled her closer. This time she did not care about the awkward looks from Stiles’ and Allison’s fathers. She would not have cared if it was her own parents, not that they would know why they two men were uncomfortable with the development.

It was strange, suddenly he had pulled her even closer and there was this noticeable shift, when Ethan was standing closer as well. Lydia had heard the story how they had become part of the pack and how Deucalion had helped them. They had to feel particularly betrayed. That he had turned them into killers was one thing but that he had casually killed one of them must really burn. She found herself taking Ethan’s hand.

“Ehm, yes, there is something else, we should talk about.” Allison broke the awkward tension as everyone had watched that sudden display of them not so subtly comforting each other. “There is also these accidents that keep happening. Stiles discovered them, in each case there seems to be some confusion in the insurance investigation, which are all ongoing, as to how the accidents could have happened. Like the first victim was working on his roof, when he somehow hit himself with a hammer fatally in the skull. One blow - while witnesses did not see the hit, they know nobody else was on the roof.”

Allison also marked the locations with a set of post-its this time in another colour, but also in Stiles’ handwriting. “That was friday two weeks ago, the next tuesday, a man cut off his own arm with a table saw in his garage. He passed out and bleed to death. Next friday, a screwdriver ended up in a woman’s eye - last tuesday, a man cleaned his drain and despite the electricity being switched off got his hand maimed and then died from a heart attack. This friday, a girl from our school, got electrocuted when she drilled a hole in a wall without any wiring. There was no visible damage on the drill either.”

“Someone from our school?” Isaac said shocked. “Who was it?”

“Sally Warton, she was a freshman,” the Sheriff explained. “It was all rather shocking, the father wants to sue the firm that made the drill, the mother is still in shock.”

“You think there actually might be a supernatural connection?” Ethan asked.

“Well, I was at the garage and outside the house of the first victim, not that me not picking up anything is a guarantee that nothing supernatural was going on.” Lydia had remembered how utterly uneventful that trip had been. Nice normal neighbourhoods and not a hint that anything creepy was going on. The whole visit had made her feel as annoyed as when Stiles had put the Ouija board in front of her. While she had accepted by now that she had some abilities, she still could not switch them on and off, so the result was basically the same. Only the frustration she had felt then was more directed at herself not at Stiles for wasting her time with what at the time had seemed pretty silly.

The sheriff sighed. “I give that these death are weird - but are we really sure that it is something supernatural causing this? Given time I am sure the insurance investigators will find something. Although, I could probably speed this up, if I can get Scott’s father to look into that. The FBI lab examining the drill and the other tools might show if there was some sort of foul-play or just bad luck much sooner.”

“Is he back in town?” Chris said wearily.

Lydia recalled Allison getting into a lot of trouble for throwing that smoke grenade. They had sorted it out with him and the help of the sheriff, but tension remained. The Argents were not too keen on anyone looking into their business. Since that might alert the extended family and they really did not want anyone else noticing that they were still involved with werewolves. Even more so given the nature of that involvement.

“Yes, the FBI itself does see this as an animal control problem but Agent McCall is having a look anyway. Now, I don’t want to be rude and start something with the FBI, especially with there being that much fear and panic in the town already over these deaths.”

“Then better keep him occupied,” Allison suggested. “So he can’t stick his nose where it might get ripped off.”

At least the three werewolves found that comment amusing. Nobody wanted to let him on their secret. Given that Agent McCall was an outsider, there was no telling how he might react and with his FBI connection he could prove to be the biggest danger to them. Luckily, Stiles’ father had taken it rather well and understood that with the forces that were at play, the police could not solve all problems.

They talked a bit more about where the police would keep a lookout and where the Argents and the werewolves would do the same. Lydia knew she would not be able to help with that but at least with everyone occupied, she might have more time to look into active dreaming and if Peter showed up again, she could ask him about the killings or better yet, get him to spend the next night from Wednesday to Thursday with her. That would not tip him off about them being suspicious and if something happened while he was with her, that would mean more than him just saying he had nothing to do with it. Although the plan had a severe hole: how would she get him to stay that long?

‘Yeah, Lydia,’ she thought rolling her eyes considering how obvious that reply was, ‘how could you get him to spend the entire night with you?’ Then there was the question, if she did proved that he was not the one responsible, how would she tell the others? It would probably not go over well with the others if she stated he was helping her with her dreams and just happened to stay over all night.

Once they had decided on the right strategy, the sheriff left first and the twins and her relocated to the living room, while Isaac stayed behind with Allison and her father in the study.

“So, looks like you will be busy for the next few days,” Lydia said.

“Through some of the night, the evening - but it’s more a matter of chance anyway.”

Aidan drew her closer, while Ethan leaned against the back of the sofa. “I wonder how I can explain all that to Danny.”

“He still has no idea, does he?” Lydia said remembering how it had been when she was just as blissfully ignorant. Then she noticed how Aidan and Ethan were looking at each other. “What?”

Taking a deep breath, Aidan stared even more intensely at his brother. Finally, he stood up and paced, before finally speaking up.

“I want to tell him, I want to ..” Ethan paused. “offer him the bite.”

“Isn’t that kind of dangerous?” Lydia wondered.

“Yes, that is part of the problem,” Aidan took over the explanation. “First, he won’t know how Danny will react to the truth. Even if he agrees, there is no way of telling him what his chances of successfully turning will be.”

“We have no experience with that and we could hardly ask Deucalion about it. I don’t want to make the offer if all I can say is, yes it might kill you, but how likely it is, that I can’t answer.”

It was a difficult situation, Lydia was somewhat touched by how concerned Ethan was about giving his boyfriend all the information. It was easy to see how much he cared. In that way, he was so different from Aidan who always tried to act cool and tough. Lydia wondered what made the two of them so different. Then again, maybe it was just that Ethan really loved Danny and Aidan merely liked her. Not that she minded, she was not in love with him either.

“Have you thought about asking Deaton for advice? He might know the risks. The worst that might happen is him telling you not do do it, that he won’t help and in that case, you know as much as you do now.”

Ethan looked at her. “Thanks, that is an option I have not thought about. I guess, I have not even decided how to tell him.”

“Maybe when this is all over we can go on a double date?” Aidan threw into the room. “Spend the evening together and then when you spring it on him, you have us close by.”

“Sure,” Lydia said. “That sounds like a good plan, if Danny needs a non werewolf to talk to, I can lend an ear.”

“Maybe we should go upstairs? It’s not like they like us here or us being together.”

“I don’t know, we should wait, I don’t just want to leave without saying goodbye,” Lydia said looking up at Aidan. “There is something else I wanted to ask you.”

Then she did her best to describe the other werewolf from the sex ritual, of course she did not mention how she had encountered him. It was just the physical appearance and from the look on Ethan’s face and Aidan’s hand holding her a bit tighter, she knew that they had seen a werewolf that fit the bill before.

“Where have you seen that werewolf?”

The question almost came simultaneously, she had no other resort but a lie, that she hoped they would not notice. “It was in a dream, some time ago, I just thought of it again … Why? Do you know who that might be?”

“Lydia,” Aidan turned her around to look at her directly. “That description you gave - you could not have described Deucalion better if you saw him in person. Lydia?”

She saw the worry in his face, from how cold her cheeks suddenly felt she realised that all the colour had gone out of them. Her knees felt a bit shaky, as she suddenly realised the truth. Lydia had know it was not Derek. She had felt it from the get go. That ruse about the possession, that had been a clever half-truth, since they also called him the demon wolf, as she dimly recalled.

Suddenly, the true purpose of that ritual dawned upon her and it made her glad she had someone to hold onto. It did not even matter how he had gotten a hold of the powerful, lunatic alph. What mattered was that Peter had made her have sex with Deucalion.


	7. Out in the woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hopes of finding whoever is behind the animal attacks, Allison and Isaac, the twins and Chris patrol through the woods ... Allison gets in awkward situations while also trying to figure out why Lydia is not calling back.
> 
> _Allison was not sure she liked the tone of it, while Lydia was always pretty precise in her comments; this seemed short and impersonal even for her. “Would you mind, if we drive by her house - I just want to make sure she is there and okay. Not knock … just …”_
> 
> _“... me listening in on her?” he finished the thought for her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [MidnightMoonWarrior](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2177888/) who helped me brush up the chapter and [kelevra79](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/4672713/) who put up with correcting my SpaG mistakes.
> 
> [Chapter 6 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-6-brainstorming)

When she looked up, Allison saw the full moon through the tips of the trees around her. Even though it shone brightly against the dark sky, she could barely see the ground beneath her. As she looked around trying to get her bearing a wolf howled in the distance. A few moments later, another wolf answered from a different direction. The sounds made her skin crawl, her knees felt shaky even as they kept her standing. It felt like a threat, because she knew what hearing a wolf howl had announced the last time. Death was coming and for some reason she felt it was coming for her.

Ever since that night when they had been attacked by Peter at school she felt like this too often to be healthy. There were times when she thought she had it under control, those times scared her for entirely different reasons. When she had been with her aunt or her grandfather, they brought out a side in her that made her feel even more afraid of herself than of the sound of the howling closing in on her.

Not that she was not profoundly scared at this moment. The howls sounded a lot closer already; with the distance between them melting away a battle with the lethal creatures seemed unavoidable. Even though she had her crossbow in hand, it hardly seemed enough. There was a fear that would only go away if she was faster, if her bolt left the string and if she could reload before the second one reached her.

Walking up the trail, she looked for a good vantage point to prepare herself for the coming attack. If they came into range of her crossbow, she would drop them. Her father always said this was not how they do things but Allison did not care. Maybe she should not have been out here all by herself but if the wolves came close enough, she would not risk them having hostile intentions. It was their own fault for acting like this.

Her palms were sweaty and she dried them off on her jeans, never letting go of the crossbow for long. This part of the forest was at least familiar to her; here she had hunted her first werewolves, captured Boyd and Erica and then of course not far from here was the Hale house and that was a place she rather forget but knew all too well.

Allison spun around as she heard something snap in the underbrush not that far from her position. Despite the relative brightness due to the full moon, she saw nothing move with the exception of the branches and twigs moving with the wind. Then another snap, different direction but she still could not see anything. There were just trees, some fallen but otherwise the forest was empty. Yet, she heard something closer, approaching her position.

Then it was so close she could swear it was just a few feet away from her. Only at the last moment, she looked up to the tree tops. Glowing red eyes stared down at her, a werewolf still in humanoid form but with black fur and face that was completely transformed with huge fangs. His claws had dug deep into the trunk of the tree about eight feet over the ground.

Turning when she heard a noise, Allison saw a second werewolf sneaking up in the same manner, only it was more wolf than man with a brown fur. Her bolt flew at it but before she could reload the other one lunged at her. All she could do was look up to see the claws that tore through her throat. Feeling her blood pouring down her body, gargled sounds came out of her mouth accompanied by more blood. Before she had a chance to fall, the fur covered body slammed her into the cold dirt. Her body was in shock and there was almost no pain. Just the horror of attempting to scream and not being able to.

The red eyes curiously looked down at her as she tried to breathe but could not: even if her windpipe was not filled with blood the massive weight on her chest made it impossible. The beast came so close to her face that it blocked out the moonlight; its hot, stinking breath was the last sensation she was aware of as her life violently ended.

Allison sat up; panting like crazy as she woke from the nightmare she had been having for months in different variations. The one thing that was always the same was her being killed by a werewolf in the dark of the forest. So far she had not told anyone about it. After all it would just worry her father, if she told Scott or Isaac they would feel bad. Since the dreams started after they had rescued their parents she just took it as part of the price that Deaton had spoken about. It was not like they came every night, only when she felt particularly anxious and powerless.

Looking at her clock, she realised it was evening; almost time to head out on her patrol with Isaac. Since they would be doing a lot of scouting together, Isaac was napping on their couch. It actually made Allison happy, that her father was that comfortable with him staying over. Considering that Isaac had gotten his full moon rage under control the very first time, he was even slightly impressed. Not that she planned on making her father aware what her intentions in regards to Isaac were. Allison was sure her father was not that impressed.

Sweat covered her and soaked into her clothing, there was just enough time to change, if she hurried. Even though the dream had left a numb after-feeling she found the strength and jumped up. Fighting off the lethargy, she peeled out of her clothing and threw them into the hamper before entering her bathroom.

Her first move was as always to set the dial to cold. There was something about the icy water hitting her body that made her feel alive again. It was only when she started shivering that she turned the water to warm and soaped herself up. Washing out the sweat out of her hair took her less than two minutes. Turning off the water she reached for a towel. After she had dried herself off, she used the hair dryer; with her hair still damp in some parts, she brushed it together going more for practical than pretty and set a new record in getting dressed.

Isaac was already up, looking more rested than she was. “Hey, are you ready?”

“Sure, we can grab a bite to eat on the way.”

With that they left to head their assigned area, her father had insisted that she not go alone as he did. At first, she had protested then she had to agree that he was more experienced. Although the real reason was more likely that in her dreams she was always alone, she hated to admit it but she was scared to be by herself in the forest ever since, and Isaac did not mind accompanying her.

Of course, they would be able to cover more ground if they split but four groups, the twins each covering their own ground was already increasing their radius a lot. Once Scott got back with Derek and Cora they could almost double it. At least, if Derek agreed to come back. Given all the bad memories here, she would hardly blame him if she stayed wherever he had Cora had gone to.

They parked the car behind a shed, just in case a police patrol came by the road. From there they headed into the woods.

“I am glad my father asked you to stay over, even if it is just to make sure I don’t go by myself after all.”

Isaac nodded: “I think he can tolerate me as a friend.”

“Yeah,” Allison agreed with a sad sigh. “About that …”

Almost as if fate wanted to tell her that she should leave the topic alone, they heard something snap and went absolutely still. Then a rabbit hopped by in the distance. They continued on their way to the area they needed to cover.

“Well, not quite what we are looking for .. “ Isaac said and after a long pause added. “Look, even if I was sure you had no feelings for Scott anymore, I know he still loves you - he is my friend, I just can’t - it would be wrong.”

Allison frowned, it was sort of what she had feared all along, she just did not have the heart to lie and say that she and Scott were totally over and that it should not matter anyway. Not just because Isaac would certainly realise she was lying. It was just so much easier just to focus on everything that had nothing do with Scott, then to actually think about that issue.

“I know - but he doesn’t own me. I am sure he accepts that I have moved on,” Allison said. “I’m not going to deny that there is still something - but I really want it to be over. It’s making me feel like I’m not myself.”

Looking to her side, she could not make out all the details of Isaacs face but she had the feeling he did not look too happy from what outline she did see. At this moment she wished she had brought the night vision goggles. It had seemed like she would not need it but the small sickle of the moon did not give off nearly enough light. Of course, she could use her flashlight but that would give them away and if she thought about it, so was their chattering.

“Let’s talk about it, when this is over,” she added.

At least, this was something they could agree on. It made this whole exercise a bit more awkward but then again she had to start it, it had hung over her head for a while and with talking things over with Lydia, it had just burned her into finally getting to the bottom of it. The bottom was exactly where she felt she was at for the moment.

The night went on long and tedious, they ate some of the sandwiches they had gotten on their way here but otherwise it was just silence interrupted by a few “Heh did you hear this?” Which most of the time she did not hear, given that Isaac’s hearing was of course way better than hers. Making her feel completely useless, which didn’t necessarily improved her downtrodden mood.

When they finally got home, they were too tired to talk. Allison wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and sleep off the frustration, when she finally remembered that she had wanted to call Lydia. It was 3 am and way too late now. Seeing Isaac head into the guest bathroom brought up the memory of her friend staggering out of it pale as a sheet. Aidan said she suddenly had felt unwell and that they would bring her home. She really had meant to call Lydia before heading out into the woods tonight.

Wondering if the Twins were already back or if she might catch them in the elevator, she realised she probably ought to send a text and call in the morning. **_Hey, Lydia overslept - but wanted to know how you are? Hope you feel better. Will call tomorrow._** When Isaac came back - ready for bed, she asked him to remind her to call. Given how they never had time for her last year, Allison did not want to fall back into bad habits. 

Then she went into her room, once more falling asleep in her clothes. Only this time she was spared another nightmare and when she woke up in the morning, it was not even that late. Taking advantage of the fact that she had slept in her clothes, she peeked out of her room. Isaac was already up, reading something and her father was in the kitchen.

“Morning,” Isaac said looking up from his book. “Your father offered to make breakfast.”

“How nice of him,” she replied. “Be ready in a few minutes.”

That was not really what she needed, breakfast with her new not-really-boyfriend and her father. She freshened up and eventually braved the situation. Luckily, her father mostly talked about how uneventful the night was, if they heard or sensed anything of importance. The Twins had not called in yet so Chris would go up and talk to them later on. He was sure that nothing happened on their end either.

By the time they were finished, Isaac offered to do the dishes and reminded her to call Lydia. While she had thought of it, she was giving him a big smile anyway. Allison liked that he had remembered. With her father going upstairs, she decided to go to her room to have a quiet call with Lydia.

There was no reply to her text but since it was almost 10 am she hoped that Lydia was up already. The phone rang a couple of times and then went to voicemail. “Heh this Allison, just calling as promised, are you feeling better? Hope it is not something you ate?”

She added the latest part, just so Lydia would not think they thought she had had a bad dream again. While they all hoped to get more information, Allison was really concerned about Lydia. Besides, she did not doubt that Lydia would say if she had important information. Then she realised that she owed someone else a call.

“Allison, finally - have you talked to Lydia?” Stiles greeted.

“Yes, she was here for the meeting.”

“How, did that go by the way?” He said before telling her that he was putting her on speaker.

Allison went on to tell him and Scott what they had come up with. They definitely agreed with checking out Peter if they could find him. She went on to tell them about their nightly surveillance and how they had not come up with anything.

“But there haven’t been any new attacks?” Scott asked.

“Not that we know of.”

To which Stiles added that this was a good thing, before coming back to Lydia. “So was she okay?”

“Yeah, I think she got a stomach bug or something. She looked a bit pale and the Twins drove her home. We talked a bit before the meeting and from what my dad told me, she does feel a bit left out because she is not on the taking action side of things. Lydia did make some great remarks during the meeting.”

Scott sighed and then said: “Well, we just don’t want her to get hurt again.”

“But she is like actually sick, have you talked to her since then?” Stiles sounded worried.

Allison was not sure if he was still having a crush on her or if he was simply worried as a friend. If she was sure about one thing, it was that Stiles was just a friend to Lydia. Not that she would rub that in, it was bad enough for him that after Jackson, she had gone straight back to jock dating and then to Aidan. The worst thing of course, was that Lydia was assuming that Stiles saw things the same way or if she knew more, she acted if she did not.

“I left her a message and a voice mail, I am sure she will call back soon and if not, I will.”

“I will call her as well ... or you think that might be a bit much?” Stiles wondered out loud, obviously Scott was not thrilled by the idea.

Allison had to agree, while some attention might not hurt, Lydia certainly hated if she had the feeling the others were conferring behind her back about her. It did seem a bit excessive, it was not like they had not seen or talked to her for days. “I think Scott might have the right idea, if you also call her and know about her being maybe slightly ill, then she is going to feel like we control her or something …”

“Yeah, okay - but you’ll call me?” Stiles asked.

“I’ll text you at the very least.”

“Good, there is something else, Allison, Stiles had an idea for something you might want to look into as well.”

“Yes, of course,” Stiles cleared his throat. “I kept thinking that there could be some animals involved, you could do a search for missing animals - huge dogs, maybe zoo animals. If there is actual someone playing Frankenstein- he will have to get his body parts from somewhere.”

“That is a good idea, I will look into that,” Allison sighed. “I just hope you can get Derek and Cora back here, I have the feeling we are not covering enough ground.”

“Who knows with him?” Scott said. “He left for a reason and Cora hasn’t been here for years.”

“Talk to Lydia if she doesn’t call you back, make up something so you have another reason to call her, okay?”

Allison rolled her eyes at how demanding he sounded, not to mention the detailed instructions as if she could not figure that out on her own. “Yes, I will make sure she is okay, Stiles!”

Now, she was convinced that Stiles was still crushing on Lydia. Which meant more drama if they were to hang out more often. Especially with Lydia cuddling up to Aidan like that, which was a disturbing new trend. While she pretended that Aidan was just a distraction, she noticed that he had felt down and that was not at all like her. Although it seemed since her ordeal she had become a bit more concerned about the well being of her friends.

After she had showered and dressed in something that had not been slept in, her father was back and said that the twins had not seen or heard anything unusual either. They all would head out again tonight. Allison mentioned the research Stiles had thought about and she and Isaac went to her room to look into it.

They did spent a few hours, looking up disappearances in and around Beacon Hills and finally discovered that Stiles’ idea was not that bad. Two of the major Zoos closest to them had reported that a lion, two leopards and a bear had been stolen. A circus was missing a tiger and a Wild Reserve was reporting two missing wolves.Then there were several instances were really large dogs had been taken. In Beacon Hill’s alone two big guard dogs had been stolen from a scrapyard.

Broadening the search, they actually discovered that there had been two more animal killings on the I-5 in the two weeks before they had started in Beacon Hills. They needed to tell the sheriff, so he could get Agent McCall on it and maybe out of their hair. When they finally stopped investigating this, Allison felt her stomach rumble.

It was late already, past 2pm and still no call back from Lydia. At least she honestly had some news to tell Lydia. Except she ended up with the voice mail once more: “Lydia, heh, we found out something, maybe you want to look into it as well. Call me.”

After dinner there was still no phone call. She wondered maybe if they should drive by her house, just so Isaac could listen if Lydia was there and okay. That was still some time off, they explained to her father what they had discovered and he told them to print out the information and that he would hand it over to the sheriff. Whom he was seeing anyway before he would go out.

In the midst of them preparing the information, Allison got a text from Lydia. _**I am fine. Glad you made progress. Will call you tomorrow.**_

“Wow, that was short,” Isaac said when she showed him the message.

Allison was not sure she liked the tone of it, while Lydia was always pretty precise in her comments; this seemed short and impersonal even for her. “Would you mind, if we drive by her house - I just want to make sure she is there and okay. Not knock … just …”

“... me listening in on her?” he finished the thought for her.

“Yes, I don’t want to give her the impression we are checking up on her.”

“If it means that much to you.”

Isaac still did not like Lydia that much, most of the time it was not that apparent but sometimes it showed through. Just as she wanted to claim that she was not the only one who cared about Lydia, she realised that she had almost forgotten something. “Omg, I need to text, Stiles!”

It might be premature but there was no reason to worry him, if she found out something was up with Lydia then she could always inform him once she had fixed the problem.

Not that Lydia acting strange was always a sign that something sinister was going on. On occasion it was just a normal problem Allison tried to remind herself of that. Maybe Lydia had eaten something at the restaurant with her parents that did not agree with her. After all they tried to get her to eat all kinds of new fancy meals every time they went out.

Figuring it was better to be safe than sorry, she stopped her car almost two hours later as close as she dared in front of Lydia’s house. Isaac sighed, slightly annoyed but rolled down the window and listened.

“And?” Allison finally asked.

“There is nobody else in the house, except Lydia in her room and I believe the second heart beat I’m hearing is from that dog with the stupid name.”

“Well, if your parents tell you fashion brands are the most important thing ever, it’s not that surprising that an 11-year old names her dog after one of them.”

She knew he got him there, it was not like Lydia was the was she was for no reason at all. The important thing was she had come far from being the snotty freshman that had laughed at the idea of Isaac asking her out. Also Allison had told him that boys had no right to expect girls to say yes just because they were interested. To which he had replied that it was the way she had humiliated him in public and that had hurt. She had wanted to point out that maybe then asking her in front of others was not the smartest thing to do.

While Lydia was more confident by the time she knew her, Allison was pretty sure she would have laughed as well. Not out of mean spiritedness but out of nervousness. It was always so embarrassing when a guy you did not know came out of nowhere and expected you to go out with him. Since that particular event still was such a sour spot with Isaac, she had decided to let it rest.

“I don’t really see what Stiles sees in her. Why he is making such a fuss. She’s still a diva, probably sits there, reading a book on god knows what, being too bored by what we’re doing.” Isaac rolled up the window and added: “She’s okay, her heartbeat is pretty normal, so can we please go?”

Allison started the car and drove off. “Come on, we can be glad she does not want to be out there with us, we’d need to keep an eye on her. Then you’d probably have to go with her, while I’d have my dad watching me.”

“Okay, that we don’t want - at all,” he agreed with her.

The rest of the night was as uneventful as the one before, with the exception that this time she brought night vision goggles and saw a lot more. Frustration was setting in sooner than last night and she wondered even more if there was some intelligent force out there, that knew they were out on patrol, and as soon as they had to stop their patrols for exhaustion the killings would be back.

Allison was sure that if their suspicions were right and Peter was behind this he would just wait. His speciality seemed to be to creep around and wait for the right moment to strike. Although, she was not sure how he might have found out about the patrols. Then, of course, the area they covered was not big enough between them and he might just be active in another area - whoever it was. Allison was trying to be open minded - but she almost hoped it was Peter. She hated that he was walking around while her aunt stayed dead.

The crowning moment of the night was of course when they got a flat tire. She texted her father that they would be late, he replied that he was coming home later anyway but if they needed assistance he could come over. As if she needed help for changing a tire, especially with one eager helper around already. They ended up fussing around and by the time they had changed the tire and gotten home, they were dead tired.

Moments after them the Twins came back, reporting on how useless this effort was but that they were willing to give it one more night. Then they really should rethink their strategy, like questioning their suspects. While they had no idea how to find them that might be something they still had a greater chance of doing.

Allison was too tired and too much in agreement with this not really being successful that she did not give much an argument. They took the elevator and she gladly left those two behind, sitting down on the couch to send another text to her father. _**Back home. Twins didn’t see anything either. Did you?**_

Then she just laid back and closed her eyes. It had occurred to her that maybe he did stay out longer because he had found something. Hopefully, not a dead body, she thought.

“Worried about him?” Isaac asked and sat down next to her.

She nodded. “Mind if I wait here till he comes home or texts back?”

“Not at all.”

That was about the last thing she remembered for the night, it was not until early in the morning that she felt her father shaking her softly by her shoulder, that she became aware that she had spend the night on the couch. The grave look on her father’s face was the first thing that struck her, and then she realised that her arm and leg were draped over Isaac’s body. Thankfully both of them were fully dressed.

“Hi, dad, did you just come home?” she asked with a certain feeling of embarrassment.

Slowly, removing her leg, she turned to her father. Her cheeks were probably bright red considering how warm she felt.

“No, I came home a few hours ago. , found you both asleep on the couch. Decided not to wake you,” her father told her, then looked past her. “I know you are awake, Isaac.”

“Morning, Mr. Argent.”

Isaac sounded about as unhappy and embarrassed as she was. At least, her father was not armed, so she figured that it was a good sign. Thinking about it, he could have done something yesterday. He let them sleep on the same couch. No doubt realising they were very tired. Just as he probably had been. Isaac shifted away from her and they both sat up.

“I think I need to go to the bathroom,” he stated and then was gone in five seconds.

Her father gave her his what-do-you-think-you-are-doing-young-lady look and she cringed a bit.

“This is so embarrassing - but you don’t think there is anything going on between us, do you?”

“I don’t know, yesterday I thought - not. Today I find you practically wrapped around him.”

Allison never knew she tended to cuddle up in her sleep, as whenever she had fallen asleep in Scott’s arms, she had started out this way and then woke up alone.

“Yeah, about that - we’re just friends. I don’t know why did that. I was asleep. I wanted to wait ‘til I heard from you. Guess we fell asleep.”

“I recommend being more careful.”

“What could happen? It’s not like he could accidentally bite and turn me, he is not an Alpha. I don’t get why you are so freaked out about it in the first place. I could be dating a lot of worse guys than Scott and Isaac.”

She could see in her father’s eyes that this subject was not open for discussion. Which also meant that he had no good arguments to make. It was not like she did not know there was some danger involved. Allison remembered Isaac freaking out in the janitor’s closet when one of the twins had locked him in. However, she had hurt him far worse than that before.

“I’ll go get dressed,” she finally said.

Moaning as she realised that this was the third time in a row she had slept in her clothes. When she stepped out of the shower, she heard her father say something to Isaac, but she could not really make out what it was. Then a door closed and Allison decided to get dressed to see what was up.

What followed was probably the most awful breakfast she could remembered. It was her turn but having Isaac and her dad sitting behind her as she prepared the food, was topping all previous awkward silence experiences. Finally, she came up with a question to do something about it.

“Heh, did you give the information about the missing animals and the other killings to the sheriff?”

“I did, he said he will make sure that Scott’s father looks into it. I have a feeling he’ll be interested in doing that, especially now that Scott is on the trip with Stiles, I don’t think he even knows how soon they plan on coming back. John has been abstruse on the purpose of the trip, so hopefully that rids us of him for a while.”

That seemed to have broken the ice as they were finally able to talk about the last night and what they had discovered or more precisely what was not discovered. Especially, the conversation with the twins, which lead Chris to suggest a new strategy. They would wait for Scott to return, an then resume these stake-outs with full force. Today and tomorrow, the three of them would take a look at the Nemeton and the surrounding area.

The Twins certainly liked the idea, they had been humouring them anyway and the positive side effect was of course that Aidan could spend time with Lydia. There was no call back by midday, not even a text but Allison did not want to pressure her. If she was feeling sick due to some stomach bug, she would not anyone to see her throwing up. So if Aidan got the heat for that, it was fine with her.

Even if she was not sick, not joining them on their excursion through the woods was not that bad a decision. It was exciting to go out and hunt as long as something was there to hunt. Sitting around and waiting was terrible way to spend the time. Since looking around involved her father giving her another lesson on tracking animals while Isaac used his other senses to see if he could pick up anything else, Allison was glad when her phone rang.

At least until Stiles told her, that Derek had declined to come back. It was of course more of an ‘I will think it over’ but Allison figured that it had to mean no. For what was there to think over? Especially, now that they had a theory that maybe Peter was involved. That had to be a good enough reason to at least want to check things out.

Her father decide it was too early to decide and that at least with Scott in the mix, they could cover more areas and that maybe the Sheriff might find a lead on where Peter or Deucalion were at. At least with Peter, they might expect him to be still in Beacon Hills. Someone must have seen him or have a clue where he was living. He had mentioned an apartment downtown to Stiles, so that was where they were focusing on now.

Their search did not yield any results, although it seemed like someone had been there recently, which might as well have been anyone, considering that they all had stumbled around here before without even knowing the significance of the place.

It was the next day, when things got interesting. Relatively well rested, they had headed out to the Nemeton even earlier than on Monday. After two hours, in which she misidentified about half of the tracks they found, Isaac noticed a strange smell. Following it, they discovered a shallow grave that had been partially dug up by some wild animal some time ago. What stuck out were some bones and the ends of ragged clothes.

Allison was really grateful that most of it was still covered with dirt, as it allowed her to look away, when her father took a closer look. All he could say, was that the remains had been here since before November. Then they decided to call the sheriff, the decay was making it hard to say anything past the approximated height and from the bones only a forensic expert could tell the gender.

Besides they did not want to leave their marks on the corpse in case it was not a supernatural crime but an ordinary one. It did conclude their scouting for the day. All they could do was go home and wait until they got more information. Allison texted Lydia again, hoping that this might spark her interest, but all she got was another text, telling her that she would meet with Aidan tomorrow and maybe come over.

Later in the evening, the sheriff came by to tell them about the preliminary findings, but that was not all he had to say. There was something about the look on his face that told them instantly something had happened.

“Yeah, there has been another animal killing. This time it happened near the hospital, a nurse Kelly Sutcliff, whom Scott’s mum had been working with.”

“Again, no witnesses?” Allison asked.

“She was parking at the far end, nobody was around, and she was dragged off into the woods, pretty grisly. Melissa noticed her car, and when she came in for her shift and Nurse Sutcliff did not show up for the shift, they looked and found blood and drag marks.”

“Damn”, Isaac said, “I probably should head over, so she doesn’t have to be alone.”

A thought that even found her father’s approval judging by the look on his face, however the sheriff had more news for them.

“That is very good of you, but when I drove Melissa home, Scott and Stiles had arrived back,” he sighed. “I suggest we delay the necessary talk till tomorrow. Then we can all have another intelligence meeting or whatever you want to call it. This is really bad, we got over a dozen people dying violent death in this town, it’s never been this bad.”

The end result was that they phoned Scott and Stiles, trying to find out how his mother was and sharing the news about the corpse. Much to her surprise Scott seemed less than upset about Isaac staying over and sleeping on the sofa. He even suggested it was better he stayed over, since his mother was pretty shaken from finding her friend’s corpse and he hoped she would be able to get some rest.

They all agreed to meet after dinner and figure out the best approach the situation.


	8. Nightly Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia tries to figure out active dreaming on her own, when Peter shows up in her room with unexpected results.
> 
> _Those two times she had seen him at Derek’s place she had not noticed being so overly worried about her friend’s parents, but Peter had gained a lot of muscle mass. In fact he had even broader more pronounced shoulders than her so very chiseled twin. Not to mention those strong, muscled arms and those very nicely defined abs._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Unbeta-read but proofed very carefully by me. Sorry, it took so long.
> 
> At least finally more Peter/Lydia action, hope you like the chapter and tell me about it, if not tell me as well ;)
> 
> [Chapter 7 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-7-outinthewoods)

While it had not been the most dreadful discovery she had ever made, Lydia had needed a few days by herself to take in the news that the other werewolf from the sex ritual had been Deucalion. She was torn from being absolutely furious to being somewhat resigned. It was her logical side that told her there was no reason to feel more outraged than before. All that had changed was that she was now aware of who the other werewolf really was.

In a way, it was even better that it was not Derek. That might have turned out to be awkward if he actually were to come back to Beacon Hills. Lydia had never met Deucalion - all she knew about him that he was a crazy, homicidal werewolf and she was not really a stranger to having sex with those. Of course, so far she had not really had the time to figure out how she felt about Peter using her again and in such a despicable manner.

At least, that was what her mind kept telling her. That this was totally inexcusable to use her like that. Yet, her feelings about the ritual did drift from anger to arousal; sometimes she was both at once. It was probably fitting that she did not hear anything from Peter for the next days. Lydia knew her reaction would either severely depress her if she went with arousal or get her into trouble if she let her fury get the better of her. After all, one slap to the face was hardly enough retribution.

When it came to the ritual, Lydia felt she had stumbled onto something important. The only problem was, Lydia would rather not tell the others about with whom she spent most of her birthday and nobody would hear the details of the sex ritual from her mouth. If there was any way to avoid mentioning it all together she would. At the same time, she knew if her hypothesis was true then she needed to warn the others. Given that she had no way to test it, she just had her own perception as clues.

That enormous power coming from Deucalion into her had been real. Lydia doubted Peter had any interest in helping the other alpha to recover from a demon possession. Stiles had told her that Deucalion referred to himself as the demonwolf. It seemed oddly fitting that even within his lie he would stick at closely as possible to the truth. While she had passed out and could not account for for where the power had gone, Lydia was pretty sure that Peter need not worry any longer about retribution from the twins.

If she told everyone what really had happened, Scott might let Peter off with a slap on the finger but Aiden would certainly not react that kindly. Even together with his brother he was afraid of Deucalion’s demonwolf powers. If Peter had those, Aiden could get seriously hurt, maybe even killed and there was no guarantee they would be as lucky as the last time.

Even if her hypothesis was wrong, Lydia did not want Aiden to do anything to Peter either. Apart from the fear that he might once more spook around in her head, maybe even permanently if they did dispose of his body more thoroughly, Lydia did not want anyone being killed over her. If Peter had anything to do with the people getting torn to pieces, then that might be a reason. At any rate, she preferred it if both twins did not add more bodies to their resume. There had to be other ways to stop Peter, if he needed to be stopped.

While the others were surveilling the outdoors as they had planned in their meeting, Lydia was doing more than sitting idly by and let others deal with the problems. At first she had thought the book Yoon had given her was just immature new age drivel, but then passages started to make sense. While the others did their first round of the woods, Lydia started a little experiment.

Putting Let the light shine on by Triumph on repeat so it played at a low volume in the back, she focused one particular set of lines. “Let the light that shines in your eyes, shine on me. Let it shine forever, let the light shine on me. We can build a dream together now.” It was not even one of her usual songs but it was the first one that fit her strategy she was able to think of.

Repeating those words, she turned off the lights and with a flashlight in her hands she slipped into her bed. Lydia had not really expected it to work, but the way the author described this process intrigued her, made her feel like she could eventually do it. Much to her surprise it worked. The result was not perfect and yet more than the author had promised for a first try.

In her dream, she was in the darkness as usually. Only she felt the flashlight in her hand and saw it shining onto the dark ground. Feeling that thing in the darkness ahead of her, she tried to direct the cone of light toward it. Before she had even reached the knees, the flashlight was knocked out of her hands. Her scream woke her and she still felt the sting of the slap on her wrist while the flashlight lay on the carpet four feet away from her. Unlike when she had gone to sleep it was turned on.

What was supposed to be a beginner’s exercise to bring a concept into a dream was a scary but smashing success. The book had said it took even gifted people who believed in this weeks to get something as simple as a light to work.

Then again she was a bit more than gifted, she was a banshee and while she still could not control her dreams, she had very successfully brought a flashlight into it. Lydia picked up the flashlight and switched it off after she had turned on her regular light. It was time to read through the book again. The second time she understood why she had tried in the first place. The things about influencing dreams, if she read between the lines, it was not just a guide on how to influence your own dreams, it was concrete hints how to shape those of others.

Like using familiar images from a person’s mind. Which was precisely what Peter had done to her. There was no denying that influencing dreams was real: Lydia had lived through it. Not that she would ever tell anyone like her parents or the guidance counsellor. She wanted to tell Stiles but felt like she should wait until she actually could produce results. If she came out before that, Lydia was sure he would be impatient and would expect her to make it work yesterday.

There was stuff missing from the book as well, other things that Peter had been able to do. The book also did not account for the fact that she was a banshee, that she dreamt things without at least consciously initiating them. It was like she was both receiver and sender, only so far she had been more at the receiving end.

For the time being she needed to get into that dream and find out who or what was hiding from her. She used all strategies, not just from the book; she also wrote down everything she remembered about the dreams and her attempts to turn that light into the darkness. Spending more time in bed and sleeping made her miss Allison’s calls and text. It also made Prada piss on the floor, which their housekeeper Mrs. Allen complained loudly about, when she came by on her regular afternoon look about. Lydia told her she was after all getting paid for this and until she lied through her teeth that she was not feeling well, it looked liked the housekeeper was going to explode.

She then went all motherly on her and offered to stay and cook her something that would take care of her upset stomach. Realising that she needed to cook anyway, Lydia accepted Mrs. Allen’s offer, betting that what the housekeeper cooked was far better than any of her own attempts. On the upside, after that incident, she did not forgot to let Prada out again.

Her efforts gave her eight dreams in the period from the first dream to Allison’s text about a new body being found around 10pm on Tuesday night. All Lydia had been able to figure out was that in the dream, whoever evaded her light was missing their right hand and possibly living in a crypt or somewhat underground with a stone coffin. It felt like she was making progress, even if she had not seen more than this. Maybe it was time to reveal it or maybe she could afford to give it another few days. Lydia would decide that on Wednesday.

Aiden had called her earlier and she had agreed to him coming over the next morning. She need to go buy some groceries since she was running out and he would be perfect to help her carry the heavy stuff. All she had left to drink was her mother’s fancy Italian table water. The green glass bottle of San Pellegrino stood on her night table, given that she did tend to wake up with a sore throat from all that screaming.

If she was honest with herself, she liked Aiden coming over early for a different reason altogether. While a few days without sex were not a catastrophe, far from it, but she did feel like distracting herself a bit from that dreadful dream world. After all she had worked rather hard on the problem and she had always made it a rule to reward herself for working on something tedious or unpleasant. While this was not as boring as homework, Lydia needed and wanted some steaming, hot sex. Even though she did not feel like talking all that much with her voice being so strained from screaming her head off more than twice a day. At least her dream induced screams were not bad enough to alert all the werewolves in town.

After drinking some hot salvia-fennel-honey tea in the kitchen, Lydia went up to her room. She hung up a purple velvet morning robe for when she would have to open the door for Aiden in the morning. Then she stripped out of her clothes and took a longer hot shower before drying herself off and slipping into a cream coloured satin nightgown. Looking at herself in the mirror to see how it looked on her, which was notoriously good, she went to sleep in the usual fashion: soft music in the background, her hand wrapped around the flashlight and her mind filled with the image of light.

It took her a while to fall asleep, when she dreamt she found herself back in the place that smelled of rotten fish and moist, damp stone walls. Lydia tried again to raise the flashlight and explore the darkness. She was not always hit right away but the thing in the dark evading her until it suddenly rushed forward. Only this time as it was about to strike her in the dark, someone pulled her arm back and she caught a dreadful sight in the ray of the flashlight.

This time her scream was different: filled with pure panic that took her out of her dream and carried over into her waking up. The flashlight revealed Peter sitting on her bed: crouched over in pain. “You know that uncontrolled screaming of yours is really something we need to work on.”

His tone was almost casual but she could tell that her scream was far from being just unpleasant for him. He took the flashlight from her and switched on the light on her nightstand. Calming down her breath, she finally managed to say. “That’s what you get for creeping unasked into other people’s bedrooms.”

Only it did not sound nearly as firm as she had aiming for thanks to her voice being a bit ragged. Reaching for the bottle with one arm, while the other held the blanket in place against her thinly covered breasts, Peter leaned forward and gave her the San Pellegrino. As she took a few sips she used the time to figure out how she felt about him being here. It certainly had distracted her from that dreadful dream but seeing him sitting there infuriated her. He seemed to feel so utterly comfortable occupying her bedside and undressing her with his eyes.

Lydia wondered if Peter knew that she had discovered what the ritual had been really about. Thinking about that, just got her so angry again. Finished with the water, she screwed the lid back onto the bottle. It was more an impulse than a conscious decision: Instead of putting the bottle back on the nightstand, she turned it midway and smacked it hard on Peter’s head. There was this really awful sounding crack and blood splattered everywhere.

He dropped from her bed to the ground and after a heartbeat Lydia rose from her position and leaned over to take a look. Blood had pooled a bit and covered his green shirt but the wound was closing fast, despite it being such a huge gash. “Oww.” Peter rose seeming more stunned than anything, but not more than she was. “Here let me take that.”

All her pent up anger had went into that blow but she had not expected that the result would be so spectacular. Her fingers were gripping the bottle tightly and she felt a pull as he took it from her and placed it out of reach on the ground next to the nightstand.

“You know you should be careful with these things - people can die from getting their skulls bashed in.” Peter did a dramatic sigh and then sat back on the bed, leaning over her legs with one hand an inch away from her knees. “Just ask my old nurse - oh wait, you can’t she’s dead.”

“Did you kill her?” Lydia had the vague memory of Stiles mentioning something about that.

He rolled his eyes. “No, Derek did. He was a bit angry at us, for that thing where we killed his sister.”

“Your niece,” she added.

Nodding he suddenly leaned forward. “Tell me, what got you so upset all of the sudden?”

There was something about his calmness given that she just cracked open his skull, that was both comforting and also upsetting. Somehow it was not normal to be struck like that and then be so utterly dispassionate about it. As the shock began to pass, she also realised that not for a moment she was afraid of retribution.

“Deucalion”, she finally replied. “I mean of all the homicidal werewolves in the world …”

That made him laugh. “Ah, you figured that out.” With a big grin left, he added: “I wonder what else you have realised.”

Out of the blue, he licked over her cheek. Lydia realised this was where his blood had splattered. Looking around her, she realised that it was all over her bed and the nightgown as well. She heard him sigh again this time it sounded like he had made a realisation. Then she felt his fingers on her cheek turning her face back to his.

“Lydia? While I personally think you look rather sexy with my blood on your face, or blood in general,” he stopped and then added more firmly. “Go - take a shower.”

Peter lifted his hand and flipped back her covers. He sighed again and with the other hand on her back he moved her towards the other side. This was when she finally started moving. He was right, she needed to get the blood off of her. When she walked into the bath, she could see that most of it had landed on her hair, there were a few drops on the left side of her face, while the higher concentrations of splatter on the other side was disrupted by the spot that Peter licked off.

Without even bothering to take off her nightgown, she slipped under the shower and let cold water run over her head. Reddish water poured down her back and dress. Vaguely, she thought that she would need to give the gown to the cleaners. Unsure how long she had been under the stream, she became aware that she started to feel really cold.

Looking at her feet she saw that the water was now clear. Lydia took it as a sign to turn the water to hot. At which point, she realised the total absurdity of the situation. Why was she upset, when he was the one whose blood was all over the place?

Her heart jumped a bit when the bathroom door opened. Peter seemed just as indifferent about the bottle incident as before. He hung up the robe she had kept on hand giving her a relaxed smile as he proceeded to pull of his shirt.

“FYI, in that wet, light-coloured gown, I can still see everything,” he told her with the hint of amusement. “But somehow it’s more enticing this way. I still recommend taking it off and drying yourself off.”

Lydia took a look at the nightgown. He was right, apart from it shaping her breasts a bit, the light fabric was almost completely transparent and clinging tightly to her curves. He had stopped looking and was instead bent over the washbasin where he had put his shirt. She found herself gaping. That night at the cabin she had not really seen him. Now, that he was completely bare-chested in her field of vision and Lydia realised how much he had changed.

Those two times she had seen him at Derek’s place she had not noticed being so overly worried about her friend’s parents, but Peter had gained a lot of muscle mass. In fact he had even broader more pronounced shoulders than her so very chiseled twin. Not to mention those strong, muscled arms and those very nicely defined abs.

Lydia tore her eyes away, trying to distract herself by thinking that it made sense that he had been leaner before having been in a coma for so long. Then there was the fact that he had been weakened from being dead. It seemed prudent to resort to regular workout as a way of gaining back the strength he had lost.

A thought that almost made her want to tell him what she suspected, instead she pulled down the straps of her dress and winded herself out of the clingy, wet fabric. Peter stole a glance at her, then went back to washing out his shirt.

“You know, we got more than one bathroom in this house,” she complained half-hearted.

He chuckled. “I’m aware, I just felt it better to have an eye on you.”

With that he wrung out the shirt and told her to get out of the shower. He casually hung it up over a towel holder after he removed one from it. As if it was the most natural thing to do he approached her and wrapped her into a big towel. Peter started to dry her off until she moved away. He did the same and then threw a smaller towel towards her. He left the room and she used the towel to wrap up her hair. Then he came back with her purple robe and held it for her. After she had slipped in, Lydia felt him wrapping his arms around her and laying his chin loosely on her shoulder. “Next time you feel the need to express your emotions, I’d suggest sticking to screams, physical violence isn’t really you.”

That was something they agreed upon; she nodded while fumbling with the belt of her robe. In the end it was Peter who did the job, leading her out of the bathroom. She immediately saw that he had removed the bloody covers and the sheet. There were a few sprinkles on the mattress and the wall but they were barely visible.

Looking around her room she realised she was missing a couch, maybe it was time to ask her parents if she could move back to the other, larger room. It had this nice window oriel where she could sit and read. Then again as long as she was screaming her head off, it was probably better to stay as far away from her parent’s room as possible. After he lead her to the bed, she found herself sitting on the now bare mattress. Peter headed over to her dresser and pulled open a drawer.

Even though Lydia had redesigned her room he still seemed to have a general sense where she put her things, as he came back with another night gown and a pair of socks. He hung the gown over the edge of the bed and handed her thick woolen socks. Putting them on she realised how cold her feet had become.

“Why are you here anyway?” Lydia found herself asking.

He gave her a puzzled look. “I told you I’d help with your dreams, didn’t I? Although as I see you have taken initiative.” His gaze went over to the book. “Got this one from Yoon? Had no idea you were into Esoterics …”

Of course what he said made sense, her mind was still a bit off, like it was moving in slow motion. An unsettling feeling but she knew that it was shock. Something that could happen in connection with experiencing intense violence. What she had not been aware of, that said violence could be perpetrated by the person experiencing the shock.

“It was just an idea. I didn’t want to solely rely …” Lydia stopped but Peter got her meaning anyway as he finished the sentence for her. “... on what I tell you. That’s more like you - doing things the smart way.”

Even though she had gotten a lot of sleep, she did not feel the least bit rested. Feeling drained and lost, she closed her eyes for a moment. “You’re not upset?”

Lydia finally opened them again, looking up at Peter’s face, who was standing in front of her in all his bare chested glory. Her attempts at ignoring this were not very successful.

“Are you referring to you not trusting me or crushing part of my skull in?”

“Both,” she said with a hint of embarrassment, “I guess.”

He sat down next to her, hesitated as if wondering what to reply. “I’d be disappointed if you trusted anyone too easily. You’re too smart for that.”

Looking at the grey socks on her feet, Lydia avoided his gaze. She felt like smiling but did her best to keep it from showing up. Whether he meant it or was just saying it to appease her, for some reason Peter was always complimenting her on her intelligence; even more often than on her being pretty. Rationally, she knew it should not matter what others said about her, yet, it seemed to mean more coming from him. He had always said it, even in her dreams when she would have done about anything to get rid of his presence, no compliments needed.

“As for you hitting me with the bottle - I probably had that coming.”

Lydia made a face as she looked at him. “Don’t think that this means I’ve forgiven you for what you did.”

“It’s okay, either way, we work well together.”

Peter pulled off the towel from her head and began gently rubbing the wet strains with great care. She began to suspect that he had some kind of hair fetish. Then recalled that she read in one of her magazines that hair kept fragrances longer than skin. She still shuddered when she kept going back to why she had needed to wash her hair.

Lydia wanted to lie down, her head felt light and exhaustion became more apparent. When he was done and the slightly moist hair fell down on her back, she was torn between finding out more and just stretch out on her bed. Then she remembered, that there were guest rooms to escape to. Before she went there, Lydia thought it might be better to get rid of Peter.

He radiated so much warmth next to her, that part of her just wanted to curl up to him and skip the guest bed. That was so inappropriate, if anything she should be telling him to go and not come uninvited into her bedroom ever again. Lydia still wanted to learn more about dreams but it would not hurt if he used the doorbell like a normal person if he came by. She hesitated to say much, partly because she was still beside herself and also as her throat hurt just a little bit.

“I need tea.”

With that she got up looking for her slippers, finding that Peter was watching her curiously. Eventually, he told her where they were, before going on to add: “Maybe you should go to one of the guestrooms and slip into this, I’ll bring you your tea. Then you can tell me about your dreams.”

It was like he was reading her mind, she felt her heart beat faster for a moment. Of course, he just had reached the same logical conclusion, given that he knew this house. Peter knew way too much about her: living inside her mind for weeks had given him an insight perspective.

Lydia asked herself if Peter was also aware that she had counted on getting rid of him, considering he felt way too eager to seek out physical contact. Then she realised that while he was a bit too forward again, he was genuinely interested in her dreams. As she did not really mind this level of intimacy, given how cold she was, she was willing to let it continue till she had found everything she needed about her dream problem.

With him heading to the kitchen, Lydia quickly disrobed and put on the nightgown, which looked not as exciting as the other one but was warmer. Slipping back into her robe, she thought about taking her notebook along. It contained more than just dream descriptions but her own personal thoughts in between them. Not to mention drawings of an eye in various sizes. For now she liked to keep those to herself. Besides the area around the drawer where she kept it was sprinkled with drops of Peter’s blood.

She would need to clean up tomorrow, maybe ask Mrs. Allen for help. That if she could think of an explanation that would not cause the housekeeper to alert her parents. Them coming back to fuss over her or even drug her up again was the last thing Lydia needed right now. Heading to the closest guest room she realised it was the one where Aiden had slept the other night.

The housekeeper had turned down the heat again, so it was quite chilly inside the room. The stylish brown furniture Lydia remedied the situation but crawled under the covers after fluffing up the pillow so she would sit comfortably against it. She did not had to wait long till Peter came back with her tea. He put on the nightstand to her left which was empty except for an old alarm clock and a lamp that he turned on.

Afterwards he switched off the big light and walked around the bed, where he slipped under the second cover. Lydia gaped at him, not really sure what to say. ‘Get out’ might have been appropriate but if she was honest, she welcomed the warmth his body radiated.

“Well, it’s cold and my shirt is still wet,” Peter replied to her continued gaze.

Lydia leaned forward to take warm tea mug into her hands, then before leaning back, she turned her head and gave him another look.

“What?” he asked confused by her wordless approach. Nonetheless, he did exactly what she had hoped for: spreading out his arms. Lydia made herself comfortable against his warm chest.

Smiling she said: “That’s better.”

This time he was probably the one giving her the odd look; not that she could see anything. Without a comment Peter wrapped his arm around her. Only then it occurred to her while he had invited himself before into her bed, they never been that close; apart from a few nights ago. While she was nipping her tea and letting the mug warm her hands, he adjusted the blankets so they were not between them anymore.

“How did the dreaming go for you so far?” Peter finally asked.

“I don’t know,” Lydia began. “I’ve got a better sense of the dream I couldn’t remember. Since it’s the same one and it’s absolutely creepy, I figure it’s probably important.”

“Yes, that I’m certain off - just out of curiousity, is there a particular reason you’re sleeping with a flashlight?”

That was a good question; she began to explain about the darkness that obscured her dream, how she first just got the smell of rotten fish and moist cellar walls, until she finally began dreaming a light into her dream in form of the flashlight. She just left out the entire number of attempts she underwent to lift it high enough to see the face of her adversary.

“Bringing it with me is no problem but whoever is there, he doesn’t want me to see him. I’m sure it’s a he and that he’s missing his right hand.” Her explanation was not met with an answer, he just ran his fingers over her arm. “Peter?”

“Just thinking, how many tries did you need to get the flashlight to appear in your dream?”

Lydia put the mug on her nightstand. “It worked on the first try - at least the getting it in with me part.”

As she looked up, she saw from his mimic that he was impressed: “That’s not bad, but then again it shouldn’t surprise me, your mind is very sharp.”

While she did feel incredibly proud, she also thought about how easy he had played with her mind. Although she wondered how much of that had to do with her not having a clue what was going on and how to defend herself against it. If she got better at this active dreaming, she might not need to worry about him coming back to haunt her.

“But I still didn’t see anything,” she complained.

“Yes, because you focused on the wrong strategy. You believed it was a matter of getting the flashlight up in time, to see the face.” Peter explained sounding very much like a teacher. “If I was you, I’d choose a different strategy.”

Lydia thought for a moment, then she realised the flaw in her plan. “A different source of light, one that allows me to see more from the start.”

“Yes, indeed,” he said sounding incredibly pleased. “It might not work as easy as the flashlight trick but considering how fast you mastered it.”

“What are you thinking of?” Shifting she leaned even further onto him, wanting see more of his face without turning her head to the side all the time. After she had made herself comfortable, it occurred to her that this was objectively speaking messed up to let this happen and even to participate in it. Yet, she was feeling very content at this moment. Even his smug smile was not changing that.

“Try to control the scene, you said you felt it was a cellar or a mauseoleum - imagine that there are torches or at least yourself holding one. The light might not be the brightest but it might let you see more.”

“Why now?” Lydia suddenly asked.

“Why as in why is this happening months after the ritual?” Peter asked to clarify.

That was not what she had meant. Shaking her head, she explained what she meant. “What made you come by tonight? Not that the other question is not good either ...”

Her voice trailed off a bit when she realised mid sentence that her hardened nipples were pressing through her nightgown against his chest. While it was not as thin as the other one, Lydia knew he had to feel them. Worse she had no idea for how long this was going on. There was also his hand which kept wandering over arm. Every time it rested for a moment, she was feeling a bit bereft and enjoyed it even more when he finally resumed the movement.

It was not a particularly arousing gesture, but the way she was draped against and over him, it was probably not surprising that her mind and body came back to that. The best thing to do would be disentangle herself, since it was not even that cold anymore in the room anymore. Lydia knew she ought to do exactly that but she did not want to. Her body was completely unwilling to follow her mind’s very rational, sane recommendation.

“Hmm, I had things to take care off, like looking around the crime scenes among other things. Are you any closer to finding out what it is, that’s killing off people?”

“Is that the point, where you try to figure out what the others know?” Lydia asked.

For some reason that only amused him; she had expected a different reaction. Suddenly he took her hand pulling it a bit over his chest. If he wanted to distract her by more intimate contact from whatever lie he wanted to sell to get her to share information, Lydia feared it might be working. His left hand intertwined with hers and his other hand was now caressing over her hip.

“Considering that the Argents, the Twins and little Isaac are aimlessly traversing through the forests, I had the impression you couldn’t know all that much. However …” he abruptly stopped.

Lydia saw him staring at the bruises on her arm and wrist. It looked rather unpleasant but she had gotten used to them and barely noticed the hurt and discolouration anymore. It was like blind ambition had taken her over, making impossible for her to stop, even though she got hurt every time she did it. Every time, except the last one, when Peter had taken her arm and unknowingly spared her another hit.

“Lydia, where did you get these bruises?”

She frowned, the concern in his voice suddenly seemed real. “The thing in the crypt …”

“Damn,” he suddenly said. “Lydia listen to me, forget what I said about creating a different source of light. You need to focus on staying out of that dream.”

“Why? What is wrong?” A shiver went over her body, leaving goosebumps on her right arm. His tone was so serious and from his face she could tell that something was wrong.

“There are very few things out there, powerful enough to cause actual physical damage through a dream. I need to talk with Yoon, this is not good.” He sighed and took a deep breath. “When you dream actively you open a path, like energy that flows towards the other entity. In order to harm you, that entity needs to sent his own energy against the flow of yours.”

“So, we know whatever it is it’s powerful,” Lydia took from it. She felt slightly upset that Peter would deem her that fragile, that this alone would cause her to back off. “I can handle a few bruises, I’m getting closer.”

He shook his head and then raised her hand to kiss it. “I know you’re not the fashion diva who winces about broken nails. That’s not the point. Letting go of her hand, his left cupped her cheek. “That thing on the other side, it’s using the energy path to make a connection.The older bruising is the smallest, the newer ones are getting larger, more forceful. Now, imagine it gets even stronger and aims not for your arm but your head. You should remember what one well placed blow can do.”

“You are telling me, it could kill me in my dream?” Lydia knew he was not joking around.

The thought disturbed her more than anything else. Feeling her heart race with the prospect of her dreams giving someone else such power over her once more, she rested her head closer against his shoulder. A gesture that was immediately followed by him pressing her against him.

“I don’t think it has yet build up the strength - but we need to figure out a way to stop this.”

It was odd but she did feel safer. Subjectively she knew that this was an illusion, however tight she was held would not stop someone from attacking her in her dreams. Objectively thinking, she recalled him interfering with her dream by taking a hold of your arm. “When you woke me tonight, why did you take my arm?”

Lydia needed to know, the end of the dream was fuzzy, while she remembered something made her scream, she could not remember what it had been. However, that paled in light of that something trying to harm her for real.

“Hard to explain, I felt you tried to evade something, since I can move much faster - I decided to get you out of harm’s way,” he explained in a tone that suggested it was not really all that special.

“You did, you actually affected my dream. But how is physically moving my arm going to do that? From everything I read in that book - it just does not make sense. Even the flashlight is just a help to focus my mind - it’s not like I’m actually bringing it into the dream.”

None of this seemed to make sense, like her actually getting hurt and throwing the flashlight across her room. Unless one bought into the notion that her mind was able to make the injuries real. All of it sounded like unscientific new age humbug. As these things were quite real, they needed to follow some rules. Something Lydia was able to wrap her mind around.

“While my action was supported by a physical movement, what really made the difference was our connection. You see, our shared bond most likely interfered with the entity’s attempt to establish a more solid bond with you.” Peter thought a moment and then explained more about how active dreaming was more an exchange of energy, that while thoughts could be transported, the visual part was mostly so the brain could make better sense of what was happening. Since energy was something that flowed through everything and even more so through beings who were alive, that energy could be influenced to make injuries appear; like letting a few arteries burst.

The explanation did help a bit but Lydia just had the feeling it would take her some time to go get used to all of this. Some of it just seemed too abstract and she knew she would need more experience to fully understand it. It was not one of these things that theory alone could teach. Whatever else she thought about Peter, he was a good teacher.

“The others think it might be you or Deucalion who did the murders,” she decided to reveal.

“Really? Young wolves …” Peter shook his head.

Continuing to explain why the others had arrived at this conclusion, Lydia hoped she might find out something in return. “Isaac mentioned that you have ways to mask your scent - so that they can’t pick it up. Whoever does the murders can shape-shift into a wolf and does mask their scent.”

Lydia did not really understand why Peter found this so particularly funny but he was laughing softly at the notion.

“Except that I can’t actually shape-shift into a wolf. That was a talent my sister had and any werewolf whose sense of smell is worth anything would have noticed the underlying distinct smell. The masking agent might prevent tracking and obscure the scent but something undead should be identified easily.”

“It’s something undead?” Lydia sighed. Of course it was. Why else would she be dreaming of a crypt and the stench of rotten fish? Although, it was of course not certain that the murderer was the same as that thing from her dream.

“The murders, the animal killings - both are”, Peter said. “However, I’ve the feeling that it is not the same type of undead being. It’s hard to tell without having an actual look at the bodies.”

“I’m afraid, even if the others knew what I know, they wouldn’t believe it wasn’t you. Even if Derek comes back and could confirm that there is something undead involved … it might not rule you out given that you’ve been dead.”

That sounded so strange to say. It was the truth, she was basically talking to someone who had risen from the grave.

“I assure you I’m very much alive.”

With that he took her hand and placed it over his chest making her feel his heartbeat. He was at least not feeling undead at all, not that she knew much about these things. Given the warmth he spread, the fact that he breathed and how strongly his heart was beating, Lydia was not doubting him on that account.

She had to think about a way to prove to the others that Peter did not had anything to do with the murders, without alerting them to what he had done. That way he might actually be able to help them figure out what was behind all these deaths. However, as long as they suspected and liked him in the role of the suspect, that would not happen.

While Lydia supposed she might be wrong about Peter being busy that night with chaining up Deucalion, it did not seem likely. Whatever was going on, she needed sleep to make sense of what was going on. Even a mind as capable as hers was in need of actual sleep.

“Maybe I should try and sleep now ..:”

It was a careful suggestion, one she hoped he would agree with. She was not sure if his shirt was dry enough but maybe she could get him to use their dryer and let her go to sleep. A hope that rose when he let go of her waist and was immediately crushed when he just stretched out his arm to switch of the lamp on the nightstand.

“Good Night, then.”

He made himself more comfortable on the bed, moving her down along with him, as she still lay partially on top of his right side.

“Ehm … I meant …”, she began.

Peter chuckled knowing exactly what she had meant, and then added. “I can go if you insist but my staying close will guarantee your safety, even if you can’t fight off the dream.”

That seemed like too much of a convenient solution. At the same time she was not sure what upset her most, that this was just a rouse to come onto her or that it might not.

“Why do I have the feeling you are just making that up …?” Lydia tested him.

“If I was making things up, it’d be more like: if we had wild crazy sex, that’d totally disrupt the flow of energy - hmm that doesn’t sound too bad does it? Might be worth a try, now that I think about it.”

The reply caused her to let out a soft groan, she might as well have expected this from him. Her own answer came out so quick, she hoped that he would not notice that is was a lie.

“That’d be the last thing on my mind!”

“Maybe on your mind - but your body seems pretty aroused and willing ..”

It was not her words that betrayed her again. He was of course right, she had felt it before. The stiffness in her breasts, her hard nipples aching pleasantly against his chest and that unmistakable sensation between her legs. Not nearly as bad as the last time they had been together alone but it gave her a bad feeling out of the sudden.

“You didn’t put anything in the tea did you?”

He laughed again, making her wonder why he seemed to always have such a good time, when she was at least partially too worried to enjoy this fully. Not that she should want to enjoy herself in his presence and certainly not like this.

“No, I did not! I swear this time your arousal is just the natural reaction to being close to someone as good looking as myself.”

Given that the drug he had given her that night, would most likely have her stripping him out of his pants by now, she considered herself safe. It was not like she had never reacted to him like this. That incident with the patrol car came to mind. Lydia felt she had to make it clear that she was not willing to let anything happen between them.

“If you try anything,” she said as firmly as she could. “I’ll find out just how effective smacking you over the head with my mug will be. I don’t care if I’ve to shower again - we’ve got more guest rooms.”

More laughter from his end, before he assured her that he was going to behave.


	9. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the bottle incident and the following night, Lydia has to admit to an overly worried Aiden that Peter had been there and once one secret is out - it gets harder to keep more to herself.
> 
> _For some reason she really wished she was back just a few hours when she fell asleep in Peter’s arms and strangely enough felt absolutely safe and content. Which was the opposite of what she felt now, exposed and utterly distressed. It would not be long and she would need to explain to her friends why she had kept them in the dark about what Peter had been doing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my new beta [AWaywardHunter](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4392546/) for taking such a close look at this chapter and pointing out so many helpful things.
> 
> [Chapter 8 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-8-nightlyvisitor)

Two things came immediately to mind when Lydia woke up: she had not dreamt of the dark tomb with the icky stench and she was alone. At least the room was pleasantly warm, encouraging her to free her arms from under the covers. While her wrist was still purple and blue where it had been bruised the day before, it at least did not hurt anymore.

In the soft morning light everything that happened last night seemed even more surreal. Yet she was here, sleeping in one of the guest rooms with the definite signs that she had not slept alone. Oddly enough, Peter hadn’t tried anything. He’d even been right that his presence would keep that nightmarish creature from reaching out to her.

Lydia felt like lying around in bed for a while. She was glad that she was alone as it allowed her to relax a while. No matter how nice it had been to fall asleep last night, having Peter around always put her on the defence. Something about the way he framed things sounded so rational but she always needed to remember that this was because he misrepresented important details.

Looking at the empty tea cup by her bed side, she realised how thirsty she actually was and how nice it would be to have someone around to bring her something to drink. Since her throat still felt a tiny bit sore she began contemplating getting up to make herself another cup. Before she made up her mind, she heard the doorbell ringing.

Perhaps it was Aiden. He had said he’d come by around 10. Only her sleep pattern was so severely out of sync that it felt earlier than that. One look at the ancient alarm clock on the nightstand confirmed that it was ten minutes after their agreed time. 

“Yes, yes,” she muttered to herself as the doorbell rang a second and third time.

Dressed in her robe and slippers she hurried down. Luckily hearing her approach had made him stop his ringing after three more loud noisy rings. Still not fully awake she opened the door for Aiden.

“Hey, morning,” Lydia greeted him with a kiss to the cheek.

“Morning,” Aiden replied.

Seeing the way he looked at her and the way his nostrils moved, Lydia knew instantly that he smelled Peter on her. Something she might have thought about if she had like five more minutes to think about her plans for the day. Then again, Aiden had never been in the same room with Peter, maybe if she fled into the shower now, she could make something up and have him forget about this.

“I overslept, why don’t you sit down for like 20 minutes while I get ready.”

While the time frame was very optimistic, Lydia knew she had to hurry. Her room was probably still a mess, she mustn’t let Aiden see that. The problem was that he was nearly always in her room when he would come over. The thought that her parents made idle conversation with the guys she brought over was terrifying. Last year Lydia had not necessarily wanted them to notice how the faces kept changing throughout summer break.

So as soon as she was upstairs, she locked her door. There she saw what had happened to her bed covers and sheets. Peter had folded them and put them beside her bed, so that most of the blood on them and the floor was not visible anymore. As soon as she had gotten rid of Aiden later on, she needed to clean that up - maybe throw them away. The real problem was the carpet, maybe she needed to call someone professional to do it.

As she couldn’t do anything at that moment, she hurried past her bed, pinned up her hair and got into the shower. It had to be a new record in showering for her, the third time in the last twenty-four hours. There was no time to use body-milk or take proper care of her hair. After maybe two minutes, she heard a loud knock on her door.

Aiden called her name through the door, knowing he could hear her, she told him to wait downstairs, that she would be ready soon. That mustn’t have been a good enough answer as she heard a cracking noise and realised that he had somehow broken the lock. She turned off the shower and took a deep breath. It had to be the blood; for a werewolf it was most likely noticeable even through the closed door.

‘Damn it,’ she thought.

Not bothering with a towel she slipped back into her robe and came out of the bathroom. Seeing him bend over the covers, sniffing at the blood splatter and then turn to her made her knees feel weak. Aiden was upset, just like the time when Cora had drawn the sign into the glass of the door, when she had lured him away from his brother. That had not turned out that great.

“Lydia - what happened here?”

He tried to keep calm but the aggression still swung through his voice. Lydia wanted to say nothing happened, nothing at all, but he probably could tell it was not her blood and even then he would want to know where it came from. Somehow she could not bring herself to say anything.

Aiden came closer, he took her hand as if he as handling a raw egg. Then he saw the bruises on her wrist. It was not hard to guess what he was making out of all this.

“It’s not what you think,” Lydia said.

“Tell me.” While he kept his voice low, it was clear that he demanded an answer. It seemed useless to keep Peter showing up a secret, she would need to get the others in the loop anyway. If Peter was right they were completely on the wrong track with those killings.

“It was Peter, he came by last night …”

“What?” he interrupted her. “Derek’s uncle - the one that we suspect might be involved?”

Lydia tried to evade his furious gaze, it was somewhat hard to concentrate, thinking about how prone he was to solve things violently.

“What did he do to you?”

“Nothing!”

She tried feverishly to come up with a good explanation but found none and Aiden had already formed his own theory. Squeezing her hand a bit tighter, he asked the question she’d rather avoid answering.

“He raped you, didn’t he?”

“No!” she protested but part of her knew that maybe not last night but when it came to the night of the ritual, that was an entirely accurate description of what had happened. “No, he didn’t, but when he showed up … I hit him with a bottle - that’s all.”

Aiden let go of her hand and paced back and forth for a moment. “Lydia you’re not a violent person, there had to be a reason for you...” He paused and paced a few heartbeats. “I am going to find that bastard and I am going to rip his head off.”

With that he stormed out of her room. She tried to get him to stop but he was not willing to listen. Lydia had seen the rage in his eyes, the red glow appearing. He was not going to take her word for it, especially since she had been lying at least partially. There was no way to explain the ritual and last night, it just did not fit together. Besides, Lydia was pretty sure Aiden would not take kindly to her spending the night in the arms of another man.

Again she felt her hands tremble uncontrollably. It seemed like every time Peter came into her life, she’d spend half of the time as a shaking mess. Yet, she knew she needed to stop Aiden, he had no idea what he was getting himself into. If he actually found Peter, things were bound to get really ugly. She thought about calling Ethan but figured that with her being so upset, he would be inclined to go along with Aiden given what they thought had happened.

Hoping that Stiles would listen to her and knowing that he could get Scott to talk sense into the Twins, she called his cell phone. After two rings, Stiles picked up and sounded very glad that she was calling. 

“Hey Lydia, how are you?”

“Hey Stiles,” she said back.

Her slightly teary voice gave her current state away and Stiles noticed.

“What’s wrong, Lydia - did you find another body?”

“No, I’m at my place … look I can’t explain everything but can you get Scott to talk to Aiden? He thinks that last night something happened with Peter.”

There was a distinct pause on the other end of the line, then Stiles was back on track working his shock into one of his silly comments. “Did something happen with Peter? You know he's basically a zombie, right? Necrophilia is wrong.”

Lydia felt the blood drain from her cheeks. “I assure you he is not a zombie! Anyway nothing of the sort happened.” Stiles had sounded worried under his casual attitude but the way he’d put it made her feel so uncomfortable.

She really wished he could ask about what happened like a normal person. It was no surprise, that the urge to keep what happened on her birthday a secret rose in her chest. It might not be necrophilia but she was sure Stiles and the others had a few things to say about bestiality. Lydia felt herself sniffing as she fought back tears. This was so humiliating, she would rather be back at the cabin for round two then have to explain what happened there.

“But Aiden thinks so, because Peter’s blood is all over my room after I smacked him with a bottle.”

“Whoa, I have clearly underestimated your level of badassery. So, you went all River Tam on him and knocked him on his ass?"

Lydia remained silent, not just because she did not know what stupid fictional characters Stiles was talking about, but it was something she would rather not remember in great detail. There certainly had been nothing glorious or badass about cracking his skull open. Even though Peter was deserving of some payback for what he had put her through.

"Does no one appreciate the Sci-Fi genre anymore?" Stiles complained then his voice got serious for a moment. “I hope afterwards he tucked his tail between his legs and ran away? - Seriously, he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

The honest worry in his voice calmed her down a bit, she had to remember she was basically alright. That was the whole point, Aiden blew this into preposterous proportions. Lydia knew she needed to put a stop to it before it all blew up.

“No, he didn’t - but .. Aiden didn’t believe me. I’m afraid someone’s going to get hurt or killed. Please, get Scott to stop him.”

“I don’t know - if Aiden wants to take on Peter for good, that might not be a bad thing.”

“What if he kills him?” Lydia pointed out.

“I can live with that.”

Taken aback, she realised she needed to approach this differently. There was a coldness about Stiles as he said it, that made her believe he was dead serious about it. It had always seemed as if he took what Peter did to her harder than she did.

“I might not, what if he keeps spooking around in my head?”

There was a sigh and then silence on the other end of the line, until Stiles finally gave in. “Yeah, I’ll talk to Scott.”

Agreeing that they would tell her as soon as they had found Aiden and calmed him down, Lydia hung up and sat down on her bed. Looking around her room, she felt like it was nothing but memories. Redecorating had helped for awhile but she would have to pick a new room soon. Especially after last night.

Lydia knew she should get dressed but instead she walked down to the kitchen and made herself another cup of tea. Even though she knew it was too early for a call back, she had her cell in the pocket of her purple robe. Putting a few cookies on a plate she sat at one of the high chairs at the tall counter and and sipped on the hot drink but couldn’t bring herself to eat any of the cookies. Not because of the allergies she was supposed to have that meant she could not eat them, but because she just did not feel hungry at all.

For some reason she really wished she was back just a few hours when she fell asleep in Peter’s arms and strangely enough felt absolutely safe and content. Which was the opposite of what she felt now, exposed and utterly distressed. It would not be long and she would need to explain to her friends why she had kept them in the dark about what Peter had been doing.

While the truth about the ritual certainly would make them understand, it was the one detail she would keep to herself. It was about half an hour before noon when she heard someone unlocking the front door. It could not be her parents, they were gone for a whole week, that left just one person with a key. Lydia walked to the living room.

“Allison,” Lydia began. If her friend came over then it was because someone had told her, and the look on her face indicated it had not been Stiles. This pitying look on Allison’s face was worse than Aiden’s anger. “It must be pretty important if you couldn’t even wait to use the doorbell,” Lydia continued snidely.

The mere thought of having the same conversation with her left her feeling bitter. Not just because Allison had come inside her house unasked but also because she was upset that Aiden had spread the story. Even if it had been true, that was not for him to tell. It was bad enough that Peter took liberties with her, she had no need for her friends to do the same.

“Ethan came by, he told us what happened. I needed to know that you’re okay,” Allison flinched, not happy with her choice of words, “I mean okay given the circumstances … I just want you to know we’re here for you . If you need to talk, if you need someone to take you to the hospital ...”

“I was not raped!” Lydia yelled.

It might not be the absolute truth but the moment she saw Allison look at her, she knew she would stick to that story. Even given the nature of the ritual, her total lack of consent, it certainly did not warrant that look. What happened last year all those weeks before her birthday had been way worse and her friends had barely even noticed.

“Okay, if you weren’t trying to defend yourself - why is his blood all over your bedroom?”

“I hit him with a bottle, I was mad at him so I hit too hard … there was blood everywhere.”

Allison’s eyes widened as she mentioned the bottle. “Is that when he hurt your wrist?”

Her friend pointed at the purple and blue bruises on her wrist which was sticking out of her robe. Lydia had to admit it did look rather awful. Allison’s assumption was not that unreasonable which was why it had been impossible to convince Aiden. It just looked bad.

“No, that wasn’t him,” Lydia said resisting the urge to hide her wrist by pulling down the sleeve of her robe. “Peter wasn’t even mad about the blow. He came by to see what I had dreamt, because believe it or not, he wants to figure out who is behind these killings as well.”

“He might just act like this, so we don’t think he’s involved,” Allison shook her head. “You don’t actually trust him, do you?”

“Of course I don’t trust him. He knows things though. He said whatever does the killings - both of them, it’s not someone who is still alive,” Lydia sighed. “Either way, I don’t want him or the Twins getting hurt. There has to be a better solution. Which is why I asked Stiles to get Scott to intervene, ‘cause I know that he prefers reasonable solutions, too.”  
Taking all the information in, her friend sat down on the couch. Lydia walked over and sat down next to her. “You, too, would rather see him dead, regardless of whether he actually has anything to do with the killings …”

“I know my aunt murdered a lot of innocent people - but she was my aunt and he killed her,” Allison said bitterly.

“If he can help us figure this out before more people get killed …”

Her suggestion clearly did not appeal to Allison. Not that Lydia could blame her, if someone had sprung the idea of working with Peter on her out of the blue, especially after the last she had heard of him doing was unspeakable things to a close friend, she would have said never ever. Unlike Allison, ignoring Peter was not really an option. Them ignoring each other was a small reprieve as best. Their connection was not as strong when they were apart but last night had shown her that it was still there. Even worse, it was not even something that would be resolved by death.

“I think he’s probably influencing you - to make you believe that you need his help. When in fact he probably just wants to know how much we know already.” The ice in Allison’s voice was even scarier than before with Stiles. Her friend’s face seemed so hardened and withdrawn. Lydia couldn’t help but think that even though she was not a werewolf or anything else supernatural, that Allison could beat any of them in the being scary department. “You didn’t tell him anything, did you?”

Lydia sighed, she at least told him that he was a suspect. “What could I possibly tell him? It’s not like you all patrolling the woods is so hard to notice.” Allison was right about one thing, Lydia knew she was inclined to believe that Peter was not involved in the recent killings, just as her friend was hoping he was.

“If we find out he is involved, it will probably be necessary to take him out. It’s not like we can arrest him and prove him guilty in a court of law - at least not without exposing and endangering all the other werewolves.”

“Why would he suddenly run around and kill a bunch of innocent, random strangers?”

“Obviously following Miss Blake’s example, if she can power up by murdering people, he might try to do the same.”

Lydia was creeped out by Allison more and more by the minute. It was like the mere suggestion that Peter was innocent for a change was upsetting her. While her arguments were rational and - given her lack of information on Peter - plausible, there was something in Allison’s voice that sounded everything but rational. It was like she was picking and choosing bits of what she knew to justify something she knew was wrong.

“Maybe, but I doubt that he needs to do it this way … if at all.”

Allison turned her head, eyeing her suspiciously. “What do you mean by that?”

Suddenly she felt the need to put some distance between herself and Allison. Standing up and walking up and down behind the couch, Lydia begins to explain, how Peter showed up in her room. Not last night but days ago, when everyone thought she would be safer at home. How he had lied about Derek needing help but that she had long since figured out that it had been Deucalion. That he needed her for some exorcism which she now believed may have been Peter stealing Deucalion’s powers.

“I have the feeling, that if Aiden and Ethan confront him, it might be them who get seriously hurt.”

Allison just gaped at her, almost as if she couldn’t believe that Lydia didn’t say anything. It stung, to have her friend look at her that way, but Lydia knew she should have mentioned all of this to them already. There was also this sudden distrust. It became even more obvious, and Allison looked upset and increasingly more withdrawn, as as she continued talking. She tried to point out that during the night of the second murder Peter had obviously been out of town to set up the ritual at the cabin. Being at two places at once, was certainly not a trick he could pull off.

Lydia knew that her friend was going to scoff at this story and was proven right before she even finished her explanation.

“He’s clearly warped his way into your mind, again.”

Allison was not mad at her but how dismissive she acted towards Lydia’s concerns and arguments was even worse than that. It was like suddenly she was reduced to being Peter’s puppet in the eyes of her friend. That was just not the case. 

“I know very well, he’s not helping out of the kindness of his heart, that he’s after something, but it could not hurt to listen what he says.”

That was really all there was to say, given that nobody was listening. Allison just crossed her arms and looked at her. So Lydia told her that she was going up to get dressed and her friend was welcome to go home or stay, this was going to take a while. Then she went back to her room and decided to get dressed properly. Taking a long hot shower, the fourth one, this time washing her hair as well.

She used her body lotion, picked out some really fancy clothes, that were borderline appropriate for a regular day and finished it all off with matching makeup. When she came out of the bathroom, her high-heeled boots clicking on the hard tiles, Lydia heard voices. Opening the door she listened downstairs.

It was the Twins, Scott and Stiles being greeted by Allison.

“Where is Lydia? Is she … “ Aiden paused. “.. doing okay?”

“Apart from Peter messing with her mind again, she seems to be doing great,” Allison pointed out sounding incredibly hostile. “He has Lydia convinced that he is innocent of the killings and wants to help us. But that’s not even the worst thing.”

“Please, don’t say this was not the first time he did this …” Stiles said his voice sounding both shocked and angry, no doubt he had also taken to believe Aiden’s assumption.

“Lydia denied that any rape took place, no what she told me is even worse. It seems that on the night of her birthday she wasn’t out with her parents at all - Peter took her for a ride and used her for some sort of ritual to drain Deucalion of his powers.”  
“What?” Scott suddenly said. “Why didn’t she say anything?”

“Probably because Peter has some Jedi-mind-control thing going on with her … I vote for finding a fail safe way to get him dead permanently,” Stiles replied. “Body and spirit … Deaton has to know something that will get him out of her head.”

Hearing her friends talk made that unhappy feeling inside her grew even stronger. It was not that she wanted them to just take her word for it that Peter was innocent of the killings, however they could at least listen to her reasoning. Lydia knew if anything pointed to him being involved she would change her position. They were the ones operating on personal dislike and incorrect assumptions.

After taking one deep breath, she gathered her courage and opened her door. As confident as she was able to, she walked down the stairs ready to face her friends. They instantly went silent when she approached.

“Keep on talking, maybe if you get your fantasies about what happened out of your system, you’ll eventually be ready to listen to what actually happened.”

As she had expected nobody said anything, they just looked at her. Although Stiles was mostly staring at the spot where her boots ended over her knees leaving a small space of skin exposed before her thighs were covered by the short skirt she was wearing.

“Now that you are listening.” Lydia paused for a moment, hoping that the werewolves would realise that what she was about to say was the truth. “There was no raping or sex of any kind going on last night.”

When she mentioned the sex of any kind, she was basically glaring at Stiles.

“I think she’s telling the truth,” Scott said with an eye towards the twins. Aiden still looked so angry but gave a shrug back as if he meant to say ‘whatever’. Stiles looked even a bit relieved but still edgy, while Allison did not even look at Scott. With a sigh their true alpha turned to her. “That still doesn’t explain why you whacked him with a bottle.”

Lydia shrugged and this time she looked at Aiden. “Maybe I just don’t take kindly to guys entering my bedroom unasked.”

Maybe she should have told everyone right then at her birthday party what had happened. Looking at all of them right at that moment, she knew why she had not. Somehow she needed space to figure things out, she couldn’t do that with all of them hovering around. Especially not when they acted like this. At least her lashing out had granted her some much needed silence. Until Stiles started to ramble on.

"It's a solid, no nonsense policy with bottle-breaking consequences that I think we can all get behind." He did try to sound cool about it, but Lydia was able to hear just a touch of hurt, when he continued to ask: "And, just to be clear, there's no scenario in which the Lord of the Creepers would be asked, right?"

Lydia just looked at him, her first thought what a ridiculous thing this was to ask. As if she ever would. It was only after he went on, that she wondered if that was true.

"I have to wonder what kind of pheromones or 'Let's fuck'-style Hallmark cards you're giving out for him to think creeping around your bedroom was a-okay."

“I’ve told him that I can’t remember my dreams, he gave me advice on how to remember them. He just came by to see if I had by now…”

That bit information was clearly not what anyone had expected and Lydia literally could see the information sink in. At least with Scott and Stiles, Aiden was silent but his face was darkened by anger and frustration. Ethan was clearly focused on keeping him calm, whispering something into his ear.

Allison was absolutely adamant about her position though. “So he tries to figure out what you know before we do, you honestly think that proves he’s innocent?”

Lydia sighed in frustration. “I can tell that whatever the thing in the dark crypt I keep dreaming about is, it’s not Peter. It’s something much worse and way more powerful.”

“So you have been able to remember?” Scott asked.

Nodding she tried to explain more. “The problem is, there was no light in my dream. I managed to introduce a bit of it but … I’ve tried for the past days, but all I have to show for it is this.” With that she raised her bruised wrist. “You might continue to believe that it was Peter, but trust me even when he was firmly embedded in my dreams, he was never able to actually physically hurt me.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, clasping his hands over his mouth. Clearly, shocked he then waved one hand as if he was clawing at something, “are you telling us we’re dealing with a Freddy-Krueger-style dream monster?”

She shrugged, the entity was creepy and probably powerful but she doubted that it could go after anyone inside their dreams. At least if Peter’s explanation of why it could harm her was correct and he had seemed like he knew what he was talking about. “I don’t think so,” she said slowly, “but it’s certainly able to hurt me.”  
“That still doesn’t explain why you reeked of him when you opened the door for me.”

Aiden’s comment got everyone to turn around and stare at her, most of the looks were accompanied by raised eyebrows and questioning expressions. Ethan, Aiden and Allison looked more accusingly. Lydia raised her head up high and then replied. “Because having him around stopped that thing from actually hurting me, so he stayed over to make sure I wasn’t harmed.”

Then she threw up her hands and walked upstairs. She was almost at the top of the stairs, when she heard Stiles calling her back but she kept on walking and then threw the door to her room shut. Only that with the broken lock it sprang immediately again.

“Wow, he has her under deep. How about we vote?” Allison said after the slam. “Who’s in favour of all of us finding him and making sure he’ll regret going after her again? Raise your hands.”

There was a moment of silence, Lydia just knew that everyone but Scott and maybe Ethan was holding up his hand. Sure enough, she heard Scott sigh and add: “It’s not that easy.”

“Isn’t it?” Stiles asked his tone drifting from insolence to plain smugness. “We voted - four to one - off with his head!”

Lydia groaned and walked into the bathroom just so she would not have to listen to the debate downstairs. The possibility that the others might be right and that maybe Peter was influencing her was not something she could ignore. If she hated anything, it was not being able to trust her own mind. Until talking to Allison she had at least been sure that she was in control of her own thoughts.

She had to believe that she still was, since she was not trusting Peter. Then again she could not ignore that her inclination to believe he wasn’t involved with the killings was based on circumstantial evidence and instinct. Given that it was strange that her instinct would tell her that he was innocent, that might indicate he was influencing her. Then again, if he was innocent, it would just make her instinct right.

“Come on - Lydia,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. “You just need more information. There’s no way to figure it out now, just keep your eyes open.”

When she came back to open the door, she heard that they were still arguing.

“Alright, Scott, we’ll do it your way. Isaac and I will head out to the cabin and see what’s left of Deucalion, you and Stiles have a chat with Peter and the Twins stay put to protect Lydia.”  
Allison did not sound happy, but from her comment it seemed she expected Deucalion to be dead. It would make sense in a way and yet she again had this feeling that they were wrong.

It was a reaction that did not necessarily boost her confidence. She had no way of telling how much of this was her own gut instinct and how much might be undetected influence from Peter. After all he had told her that she saved a life and that might be just her wishful thinking that this was the positive outcome of that night.

Yet, she was pretty tight lipped when Allison came upstairs to ask her about the cabin and where she might find it. Neither of them brought the mind-control issue up again. There was tension between them, Lydia was sure it was better not to say anything that would cause further conflict. Once they knew more about what was going on and what Peter’s true intentions were, they could try to sort it out. But Lydia did her best, listed all the road signs and turns she had seen along the way.

“And just in case Deucalion is still alive, be careful.”

“If you are right, then he might be alive but won’t exactly be a match to a hunter and another beta,” Allison said and with a somewhat annoyed smile walked downstairs again.


	10. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins decide to give Lydia a bit of "comfort". (Note: Very pwpish this chapter. Aiden/Lydia/Ethan and Aiden/Lydia but nothing really kinky going on here.)
> 
> _But just because the two of them handled the main coordination did not mean she wasn’t capable of being proactive as well. She turned off the dumb tv and freed herself from Ethan to get on with the undressing. Not that she did either of those in a hurry, Lydia just signalled she wanted to move and they obliged her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my awesome beta [AWaywardHunter](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4392546/) for taking such great care of this chapter.
> 
> I also have to thank [calrissian18](http://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18) who test read the smut for me, given that I usually don't write "love making".
> 
> [Chapter 9 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-9-secrets)

Shortly after Allison had left her, Lydia heard the front door open and voices disappear after it closed again. While she had listened earlier to her friends talking about the possibility that the twins might stay to watch over her, she hadn’t been able to tell with certainty if they were still in the house. All things considered she would not blame them if they took off with the others.

While she wanted to go downstairs to find out if that was the case, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to face Aiden. Lydia was not mad at him for jumping to the wrong conclusion, but she was mad at him for not listening to her and then outing her in front of her friends.

It was not even like Peter had left her a choice, which hadn’t bothered her because everything about his willful invasion of her bed had been welcome but had he asked her for permission Lydia knew out of pure stubbornness she would have told him to get lost. Then she would have spent the night in a slowly warming bed and probably another nightmare and bruise.

What finally got her to head downstairs was her stomach signalling her that it will not tolerate her refusal of a decent breakfast any longer. On her way to the kitchen, she saw that both Twins were sitting on the couch looking at her with embarrassed but much friendlier faces.

“Aiden would like to say something to you.” With that Ethan socked his brother in the arm.

Lydia was a bit skeptical, wondering how much of what he was going to say would be of his own volition. From the look he gave her, she at least felt that he was a bit sorry.

“I wanted you to know, that it wasn’t my intention to embarrass you. I really like you - that scent on you, the blood in your room - I just freaked out thinking someone did that to you.” He paused glancing at Ethan who gave him the ‘you’re-on-your-own’ look. “I know you want your space - but I feel very protective of you. You might not be a werewolf but we think of you as pack. Not being able to protect you …”

His voice trailed off as if not sure that saying more would hurt or help his apology. It was only fair for him to know why she was so upset with him.

“It’s not that you jumped to the wrong conclusion, Aiden,” Lydia looked at him, unhappy that they had to turn this into some ‘protecting her’ issue, when it was not. She tried to keep her frustration down so her tone was not too accusatory. “You didn’t listen to me - I told you nothing happened and you didn’t care.”

“I guess, I was also a bit jealous,” he admitted.

The decent thing would probably be to reply that there was no reason to be jealous but Lydia knew this would be a lie. She wasn’t sure about the exact reason or maybe there were more than one. There were three she could think about: the mind-blowing sex during that ritual, the fact that now, instead of tormenting her through her dreams, he was guarding her from them instead and that he was willing to help her in discovering what else she could do.

“Peter isn’t my favourite person in the world either, but he knows more about this than anyone and he owes me. Everyone acts as if this latest stunt was the worst thing that he ever did to me. Well, it was not and nobody had a problem accepting his help after last years events. So why the reluctance now?”

Ethan took a deep breath. “Maybe because the very idea that he raped you was something that none of the others could forgive. It’s after all one of the worst and most despicable things to do to another person.”

Lydia would agree with him, that made it all the worse for her. She did not felt like a victim, but she knew she should and worst of all, she was not the only one who had been raped that night. Peter had used her to violate Deucalion, to rip his powers from him and just maybe that was the real reason she felt so reluctant to say anything about it.

“Even if,” she began when she felt she had her firm voice back. “that were the case, shouldn’t my wishes be the ones that count? Instead of using the information to do what everyone always wanted to do anyway.”

Aiden stared at the ground, then back at her. “Of course, if we act against him - it will because he’s behind the killings or because you’ve asked us to.”

Offering to kill someone on her say so was not exactly high on her list of romantic gestures but Lydia took it in the spirit it was certainly meant in. “Thanks - I guess,” she leaned forward and kissed Aiden. “Although, I can tell you that in all likelihood this means you won’t be doing anything to him.”

“You’re pretty sure that he didn’t do these killings.” Ethan sounded curious and she decided to explain as best as she could why that was. Emphasizing that she was not ruling out the possibility that Peter had influenced her in a way she hadn’t realised but that it was her dreams that convinced her. He was right about there being something undead. Something that was not stuck in between - that felt dead, cold and evil. Whatever had happened last year, the feeling of dread that handless thing caused her was a dozen times more terrifying than Peter and his creepy dream messages.

“I’m hungry,” Lydia rounded up the conversation when her stomach rumbled for everyone to hear. “Not sure there is enough left in the fridge for everyone …”

“Just give me a list then, I’ll go out and bring something back and you make yourself a quick snack,” Ethan suggested.

She could tell he meant it, which is why she then suggested that they all take a look for what the three of them would need for tonight and the next day. Afterwards she made herself a shake with the rest of the milk, a yoghurt and some frozen bananas and strawberries, while Aiden made them the rest of the bacon with the last three eggs.

After Ethan went out to shop with the money she gave him, Aiden surprised her by suggesting they clean her room of the blood. “If you’re not comfortable - I can do it alone.”

Lydia did not want to stand back. She wasn’t that sure how to handle blood stains of this magnitude but after googling it on the internet while Aiden inspected the intense damage she found the information she was looking for. It took a lot of soaking and scrubbing but with Mrs. Allen’s comprehensive cleaning tools and detergent, they managed to scrub the blood out of the linens and then run them through the washing machine. The actual bedding was a bit harder and Lydia ended up rolling it up and packing it for the cleaners. Just as they had finally begun tackling the blood splatter on her nightstand and the mattress, Ethan returned with delicious smelling Chinese food and a movie.

It was the new version of the Three Musketeers that had been in cinemas last year, when none of them had really felt like going out. Not that she was that keen on the movie, as a kid she had watched the Disney version and while she had liked that then, after reading the books in French when she was thirteen, she felt the adaptations lacked a bit. But she did not complain, it was after all just a movie and if the two of them wanted to watch it, she could roll with it.

Initial fears that she might not be able to stop herself from pointing out just how far this was from the books were quickly forgotten, when they ended up enjoying the eye-candy and laughing at just how ridiculous it was. While Aiden was complaining about the lack of nudity on behalf of the lead actress, she and Ethan had tons of fun giving the guys ratings on sex appeal, who looked the silliest and other tid bits.

Even before they got the end of the movie, another fascinating development was taking place. Lydia found herself in surprisingly close proximity to both twins. Aiden’s arm reaching around her back taking a hold on her waist as he pulled her closer did not surprise her. It was the fact that Ethan had his arm around her as well with one hand on her shoulder. That and him leaning against her cheek on her other side.

Letting out a small sigh as she just enjoyed the attention, she soon found that she had two hands on her thighs with Aiden’s hand moving under her skirt. With Ethan suddenly kissing her neck, it quickly became clear that this was not just movie snuggling. It was a pretty hot thought, one that had crossed her mind before, but one that she had never brought up. After all she was not exactly Ethan’s type - being the wrong gender and of course him not being exactly on the market.

“Hey, not that I’m complaining but what about Danny?”

It was a question that had to be asked; if she was going again where her arousal led her, then she needed to make sure she was not screwing over the wrong person. Ethan seemed quite unoffended as he got closer to her ear. “Once he finds out everything, he’ll understand. This is about connection, not just between my brother and me …”

Aiden chimed in. “As I said earlier, you might not be a werewolf but we still like to see you as pack.”

“In a real pack, we comfort each other - together we can just do that a lot better. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, then I can go or let you get a room.”

That explanation seemed good enough for Lydia. It vaguely occurred to her that maybe they should not just rely on Danny’s understanding before they explained anything. Then her hand reached for Ethan’s hand on her shoulder to show that he was welcome, while she leaned towards Aiden and kissed him. Which encouraged him to pull down her panties leaving his fingers enough room to tease her most sensitive spot. At the same time Ethan proved that he knew what to do with his tongue and mouth as he alternatively kissed her neck, earlobes and let his tongue run wild.

It was Aiden who eventually pulled her upper body on his left, while Ethan did the same for her legs. It was almost going to slow for her taste but there was something about the caring way with which she was handled that made her adapt to their pace. Finding the other hand now between her legs, Aiden held her tightly kissing her as best as he knew how. Ethan quite proficiently peeled her out of her long boots and pantihose and then stroke along her legs in a way that made her feel quite jealous of Danny.

Ethan continued by pushing her slip down a bit further for his brother to reach, Lydia found herself almost half-naked. Her skirt was still covering a little but it had moved quite a bit. There was something else that she noticed when she again coaxed again into a different position: the twins seemed to know exactly what the other wanted to do. So she found herself kneeling on the sofa in an ideal position to loosen some of Ethan’s clothes.

It was so different from the usual hectic way they got rid of all those hindering clothes. So she took great care to open button by button - it was probably a good thing, too. The way they usually tended to tear off their shirts must be hell on their resources. Lydia made a note to maybe coax them to go shopping with her. While she was busy with Ethan’s top Aiden stripped her off her tops and then unclasped her bra. By that time she had pushed down the shirt, unbuckled Ethan’s belt and was now pulling down the zipper.

Then Lydia kissed him, feeling a bit awkward as her now naked breasts brushed against his chest making her nipples tighten. There was no holding back on both sides. This time it was Ethan who pulled her against his chest while his brother took care of her legs and skirt. Afterwards he came just close enough to enable her to tug down the zipper of his sweater. Which she did with Ethan’s tongue jammed down her throat.

But just because the two of them handled the main coordination did not mean she wasn’t capable of being proactive as well. She turned off the dumb tv and freed herself from Ethan to get on with the undressing. Not that she did either of those in a hurry, she just signalled she wanted to move and they obliged her. Aiden even stood up so she could pull down his pants as far as she could reach with Ethan wrapping one arm around her waist. The rest he took care of himself before kneeling next to her on the sofa, pulling her tighter.

Lydia let out a satisfied moan as she felt his fingers back between her legs. His thumb massaged her while a fingers slipped into the already slightly wet opening. Behind her she heard Ethan removing his clothes as well and then she was surrounded by two firm, naked bodies that were hot in more than one way.

While Aiden clearly took charge of getting her ready, Lydia found herself surprised when she felt Ethan brushing hard and eager against her. First, she felt the growing erection against her thighs and cheeks, just as she felt Aiden slip a third finger inside her. Which made it, despite the slow pace, really hard to focus on much of anything else. She thought she heard a condom being opened but having her mouth full of Aiden’s tongue, she hadn’t really cared.

Then she felt Aiden’s fingers giving way to his brother’s erection. Moaning in pleasure as she felt him pushing her all the way down, Lydia found it hard to breathe and tore her mouth free. Throwing her head back, her neck was almost immediately occupied on both sides by two eager mouths. Just as her body was held by four strong arms and then slowly moved up and down.

The slow build up made her even more eager but with Aiden proving that he was a good learner by sucking on her breast in a very pleasing way, she was willing to just let them run the show. After a time that seemed way too long, she felt Aiden’s fingers touch her, stimulating her as Ethan began moving inside her as opposed to them moving her. It was almost torture feeling her body driven to climax at what seemed like a snail’s pace. When she finally got there, it was pure bliss and they had no problem keeping her there. It was not until she clung with her arms around Aiden’s neck panting and not being much aware of anything else, that Ethan allowed himself to come.

Catching her breath she found herself cuddled up against Aiden and Ethan cuddling up against her. If their plan had been to comfort her, she did indeed feel so much better after this extraordinary disastrous day. It was too bad this was just a special circumstance scenario because with his brother around, there was something different about Aiden.

“What about you?” she finally asked him

“This is about you …” Aiden said and kissed her forehead.

Lydia let her hand run over his side thinking about whether she should leave it at that or if she wanted another round. Right now she felt pretty okay with where she was at. A bit later, maybe she’d find the time to reward him for being so utterly unselfish and doing his best to apologize for not listening to her earlier.

As Allison had pointed out she was way too forgiving, although this time it seemed warranted. Then there was her want for more. Lydia was not sure how much time had passed with her lying there an odd bundle of intertwined arms and legs, when it became utterly necessary to disentangle herself.

“Everything okay?” Aiden asked her.

“Oh yes,” Lydia smiled as she got up from the couch, steadying herself on his shoulder. “My leg fell asleep. That’s all.”

Ethan smiled and Aiden grinned at her before he placed a long kissed on her lips. Then he asked. “So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to slowly walk into the kitchen, get something to drink - then I’m going to get upstairs and into the shower and you are welcome to join me then.” With that she kissed him and walked away hoping her leg would wake up before she got on the rather sleek kitchen floor. While it took longer she found a good rhythm that lead her safely to the fridge.

Rehydrating herself was a good call, even though her throat was back to normal after all the screaming of the past days, she had not realised just how thirsty she had been. When she walked past the twins who were leaning against each other still naked, she was already much faster on her feet and managed a rather inviting walk up the stairs. She had barely switched on the shower in the guest bathroom when the door opened and Aiden peeked in.

“So does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Hmm,” Lydia said and cocked her head to the side. “Maybe …”

Letting actions speak rather than fallible vocabulary, he went ahead and pressed her against the tiles letting the warm water wash over them. Lydia smiled as she saw that he was holding another condom wrapper in his hand. Taking it from him she knelt down and took charge of the situation. There was no need to risk things going maybe in the wrong direction, besides she had no patience left for another long drawn out session. As beautiful it had been, she was eager to feel him inside her.

Not that she did not take her sweet time, making sure he was very eager for it as well. Lydia enjoyed feeling an erection coming to life under her tongue, wrapping her lips around it and hearing her partner moan. The wrapper was opened quickly and then with as much slow motion as she could muster, she rolled it over the sizeable dick.

Lydia finally stood up, allowing him to grab her and lift her up. That was a trick he had learned pretty fast and now he pinned her against the wall again. It was after all not the first time that they had done it in the shower, including one or two times where she’d stayed late after practice to sneak into the boys’ shower room. While the practice part was still far from perfection they had found a good rhythm to this exercise.

With one hand she guided him into her before wrapping both arms around his shoulders drawing him closer. Aiden moved with a few slow strokes, while adjusting her position against the wall, until they found the perfect angle. Then it was back to a faster pace, one where she found herself wanting a bit more.

“Remember when I told you I am not made out of glass?” she tried to remind him.

Aiden groaned in disbelief and with worry. “Lydia if I go at you any harder, I might injure you.”

She found herself sighing, not feeling much like having that discussion again. There was no doubt in her mind that being a bit rougher wouldn’t put her in any danger. Despite the break Lydia had been aroused and wet, his hard erection was so far just sending pleasant sensations through her. If anything the idea of grabbing her tighter and going at her roughly was just exciting her even more.

“Believe me you won’t.”

With that she let one of her hands slide down his back her nails firmly digging into the muscled back. That did the trick, it always did, while Aiden was rather careful with her he sure liked it when she upped the ante. Unlike with Jackson at least his back was not a mess of red streams afterwards. As far as he himself was concerned, rough was not off limits. It was just that he always seemed to feel she was too fragile.

That might hold true for brawling with a werewolf but Lydia hardly thought this applied rough sex, even less after what had happened at the cabin. That had been way more intense, it had actually hurt but even then she hadn’t really been injured. It had been such an incredible orgasm, that the memory alone spurred her on while Aiden took her with comparatively mildly rough movement.

Wrapping her legs around him even tighter as she felt herself come, Lydia enjoyed the feeling of his hard erection buried deep inside her as she unintentionally brought him over the edge as well.

“Wow,” he commented after a moment. “I think that was the first time we actually sort of came together.”

Lydia smiled at him, as he let her down. That was true, not that it really mattered that much to her, not when he often could go again, so that if he came first it was never over for her. Even when he still had a lot to learn about what to do with his fingers, tongue and lips.

“Yes,” she said sounding more pleased than she actually was.

There were seldom times when she had to resort to thinking about sex with someone else to take full advantage of currently not so good sex she had been having. Only in this case the sex had not been bad to begin with and the scenario she had thought of was so utterly questionable.

“You look a bit pale?”

“Do I?” she shrugged and kissed him. He gave her that look. “I’m fine, why don’t you dispose of that condom, then come back and soap up my back?”

“How could I say no to that?”

As sweet as his concern for her sometimes was, Lydia did dislike how fragile he tried to make her out to be. So what if she was sometimes a bit flustered, panting or having the colour disappear from her cheeks? That was nothing compared to anything else she had been through and she had come out of those turmoils without going out of her mind. Even her actual injury had healed up quite nicely.

“I always wondered what those were …” Aiden said as he came back and saw her looking at them. “They don’t look like typical bite marks.”

“No, I guess they don’t.”

Aiden lifted up her head. “You know, we won’t let him harm you again.”

Lydia was pretty sure that after smashing a bottle over Peter’s head and him not minding it so much, that she didn’t exactly need to worry about him harming her again. But she didn’t say anything, this was not the moment for this discussion, Aiden was probably not even the right person for that. Instead she handed him the shower gel and smiled thinking that this was shower number five in the past two days.

When she was finally done, she rubbed her hair dry and watched Aiden shower from the corner of her eyes and then used the small hair dryer to take care of her hair. By the time she was done with that, Aiden had already left the bathroom and when she joined him, the bed was not just occupied by him.

“We figured there’s enough space for three people,” Aiden said and Ethan added. “Your guest beds make some other beds look pretty tiny in comparison.”

Lydia shrugged giving them a smile and when she reached for her nightgown Aiden asked her if she really needed it. She probably didn’t and climbed naked over his also naked body and snuggled against his already mark free back. Ethan did the same to her after pulling the blankets over them. Then Aiden switched off the light and Lydia tried to focus on staying clear from that murky crypt dream.


	11. Dreams and Dead Bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia finds yet another body but this time it is different: she knows where it is before she even goes looking. Leaving her with the question is Peter behind this or why is her vision of it so much clearer?
> 
> _Ethan looked around and then jumped very gracefully from a lower metal bar in the gates over the spiky tops. “Which direction?” he asked but then paused. “Oh, wait I can already smell the blood.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by the awesome [AWaywardHunter](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4392546/), big thanks to [calrissian18](http://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18) for a few very graphic suggestions ;)
> 
> Warning: some gory details ahead.
> 
> [Chapter 10 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-10-comfort)

As pleasant as falling asleep together with the twins had been, the awakening was rude. Struggling, thrashing and screaming Lydia shot up in the guest bed. Her feet kicked her fellow bedmates who lay beside her cringing in pain, hands over their ears, unable to stop her unintentional assault. It was over in less than a minute but Lydia was still feeling disoriented. The same seemed to go for Ethan and Aiden whose ears without doubt still rang.

Nonetheless, Aiden tried to pull her into his arms but she felt too restless. She needed to get up - needed to move. After a moment, he gave up and let her climb over him. Lydia saw that it was still very early in the morning; outside everything was still dark.

“Lydia what is it?” Aiden asked concerned.

She turned back to look at them; both moving somewhat sluggishly as if out of balance. It hadn’t been the awful crypt dream but it had been awful. The pressing need to go out was evidence enough of that.

“There’s been another murder,” she explained.

Then Lydia slipped into her robe and headed towards her room to get dressed. She saw the two of them look at each other. Then, slowly and with sluggish movements but determination, they got out of the bed. Obviously intent on following her. What she had revealed was not surprising news. It had happened these past two nights from Wednesday to Thursday and now there was no doubt on her mind that this was the third one. Lydia remembered that she had hoped to persuade Peter somehow to stick around. Had he only showed up one day later.

‘Maybe that’s because he needed this night off,’ a bitter voice rang through her head.

After all Allison could be right, they all could be right and Peter just played with her mind to get her to tell him what the others knew. Only he seemed to know so much more already than they did. She could not think about that. Behind her she heard Ethan offer to get their clothes from downstairs while Aiden followed her into her room.

“Is this one of your - go out and find dead bodies things? Like with that boy by the pool?”

Lydia nodded, she didn’t know why the urge hadn’t been there during the last two but she was sure this was one of those. Except this time there was something different about it. In the past she had needed to go out but she had been less aware of it. These dreams she had never been able to recall, yet they had been the worst. Now, as she went back to the dream and waking up, the memory came back.

Taking hold of the edge of her bed, she turned to Aiden. “I saw it - or at least what was left of it.”

He stepped closer and, unlike before, when he began to pull her into his arms, Lydia did not struggle out of his embrace. “So you know where it is?” Aiden asked her.

Nodding she held onto him. She remembered how she tried to avoid the crypt; it was like something pulled her there but she had resisted. Then she was walking outside. There was barely any light and suddenly she hit something with her bare feet. Looking down her naked body she saw something unshapely and her toes being covered in a dark wet substance.

Even though her sense of smell was not as keen as that of the wolves, Lydia knew by now how blood smelled. Looking around she had seen the darkened lamp posts. While she did not want to see what exactly was out there, she forced herself to keep on walking. Then she saw the body parts. While she had seen some carnage this was the absolute worst.

A desperate sob escaped her as she recalled the sight of what had once been a head. Only this one was missing a jaw and the person's spine was twisted, pulled through the front of the chest cavity and not by human hands. There were nicks, like teeth marks, in the bone. Blood splattered the ground, the trees, every inch of the body. The body that had been torn apart with vicious skill, the vital organs missing as though someone - something - was looking for a feast. Lydia shuddered as she realised this was far worse than the previous ones. Limbs had been ripped from their sockets with superhuman strength, the skin ragged and flapping like something had been trying to make a meal of it. It was clearly an animal killing, that could no longer be denied; or a werewolf killing she added to her train of thoughts.

“It’s by the old cemetery, the one with the mausoleums and old fashioned lamp posts,” she explained.

During a class trip two years ago they had visited this particular cemetery. Nobody had been buried there for a while; it was where old families rested, people who had historic significance both in Beacon Hills and for the country. The last people buried there had been soldiers who had fallen in the second world war.

“How about we get dressed, you call your friend Stiles and then we drive out there and one of us takes a look?” Aiden suggested calmly. “No, need for you to see this twice.”

Lydia liked that thought. While she still needed to get out there, somehow she wasn’t as restless anymore. Almost on queue, Ethan brought Aiden’s clothes into her room. He was already wearing his jeans, socks and shoes and was just slipping into his shirt. Lydia grabbed some underwear, headed into the bathroom and freshened herself up to try to get out of her nightmare trance. In her underwear she hurried back out, looking for something more practical to wear. A long pair of jeans, some hiking boots and three layers of tops did the trick.

The twins were already finished by the time she put on the white cardigan. Taking her cell phone out of her handbag, she made a mental note to recharge it soon. It was five am in the morning and she would bet that Stiles would not be pleased about the hour of day. Calling up his number from her speed dial button, she didn’t have to wait long for his response.

“Lydia?” Stiles said, sleepy. A loud crash followed and then, in a more alert tone, “Is everything okay?”

“With me, I think so,” she paused for a moment. “There’s been another body. I think. The twins and I are heading to the old South Lane cemetery to look for it.”

“Wow, wait - you’re not there but you already know where the body is?” He said perplexed.

She wasn’t sure what to say; she was sure that her dream had showed her the location of the actual killing site. It had probably always been this way but she hadn’t been open or aware enough to recall, the dream leaving her with just the feeling to head to a certain place. Thinking about it that way made perfect sense. Whenever she’d found a body it had been at locations she had been familiar with. Except for the guard at the mall.

“You are making progress, young padawan.”

“Are you going to wake your father and send him over or do you want to wait until we actually find something?” Lydia wanted to know.

“Nah, I’ve already woken our sleeping Alpha,” he paused and she heard him argue something, “Yep, we’ll drive down as well, take a look before the police.”

“See you then.”

With the twins being on bikes, they decided to take her car. When they headed to the backdoor to go to the back yard, where she had parked her car in front of the double garage doors. Aiden suddenly stopped and raised his nose.

“What is it?” Ethan asked.

“I just thought I smelled him,” he replied.

“Peter?” Lydia said even though she knew that was whom he meant.

Aiden shook his head. “Maybe he was here earlier - maybe I’m just imagining things. But I don’t think he’s here right now.” He snorted. “Probably needs a shower going by your account of the crime scene.”

Not bothering with a reply, Lydia beeped the car open and climbed behind the wheel. After both of them had gotten in as well, she drove toward the gate which opened as her car approached. Then she headed down the street making a turn toward South Lane, which was probably twenty or thirty minutes from her house. It would still be dark by the time they arrived. Since she didn’t plan to look at the body herself it didn’t matter to her.

Despite the company, it was a gloomy ride knowing what they were looking for. At this hour the cemetery gates were of course locked. Lydia parked her car right in front of them. That way, when they all got out of the car, the parking light gave them a good view of the eloquent metal work used to build the eight-foot-tall gates firmly set in the six-foot-tall stone walls surrounding the place.

Ethan looked around and then jumped very gracefully from a lower metal bar in the gates over the spiky tops. “Which direction?” he asked but then paused. “Oh, wait I can already smell the blood.”

“Me, too,” Aiden said and walked around the car wrapping his arm around Lydia. “Make sure to check if the killer is really gone. If it is Peter and he is indeed an alpha ...”

“I can hold him off until you get there.”

Ethan dismissed the concern with a very unconvincing smile and a handwave. Lydia watched him disappear into the semi darkness. Nearly a week after the new moon, the night was still too dark for her to make out more than shapes. If not for the car lights she’d really feel uncomfortable despite Aiden being close to her.

“You know, you shouldn’t underestimate him,” Lydia said, feeling she should warn him, even if he wasn’t listening anyway. She could at least try to drive the point home. “Even if he isn’t the killer - he’s way smarter than you think. When the others went up against him the first time, they had the advantage that he’d had little time to properly plan. Now, he’s had months - he knows all of us.”

“Maybe - but we still outnumber him,” Aiden sighed. “Although I admit, it worries me to think he might have Deucalion’s powers absorbed. We might all have been Alphas but his power was unrivaled.”

There was a new carefulness ever since their close encounter with death. If Jennifer had not been able to beat Deucalion, even with all her acquired powers, and yet had so easily disposed of the twins at the height of their power, the concern Aiden showed was more than justified. She had seen the worry in Ethan’s face as well, even though he tried not to show it.

If she was honest, the thought of Peter having that much power did scare her, too. Even though he certainly was not intent upon causing her further physical harm, it meant that her friends might not be able to stop him. Worse they could get hurt if they tried to protect her. There was the distinct possibility she might need help. After all she had no idea what game he was playing.

Peter might already have restored his powers far beyond what they had been previously and still he showed up at her place, seemingly invested in her dreams. Even if he wasn’t behind this murder or animal attack, he could still have his own dark agenda.

“Deaton told us that too much power corrupts, especially if a person is all on their own,” Lydia said, needing to voice her thoughts and in hopes of maybe getting a thoughtful response for a change. “I think that’s why he’s so invested in Scott. He feels he’s going to be a great alpha and because he has Stiles and us, that he won’t be corrupted by the power inside him.”

“And Peter has no one,” Aiden concluded. “I guess the same was true for Deucalion. He never really trusted any of us. Being backstabbed by your own beta, having a bunch of powerful alphas around doesn’t increase your willingness to let your guard down.”

“At least you two had each other,” Lydia looked up to him. “He couldn’t take that away from you.”

He nodded and then tensed up. “I hope this is Scott and Stiles, ‘cause there’s a car coming.”

As Aiden pointed it out she saw the faint lights shining along the street and finally they were so bright that anyone could notice them even in the distance. While crap cars weren’t her speciality, she did recognise the shape of the lights as those of Stiles’ Jeep.

“Ethan’s been gone awhile ..:” Lydia said as they waited for it to come closer.

“He’s alright,” Aiden replied knowingly.

She felt him relax, glad there wasn’t more trouble on the way. After all it would have been awkward if someone heading out to work saw them standing in front of the newest crime scene. Especially after she had been finding dead bodies around school only a few months ago. Not that she gave much about her reputation at school anymore - but with Scott’s father still hovering around, that might be a problem.

“Hey!” Stiles said after he parked the car by the side of the road. There was this weird look on his face when he looked over to her and Aiden. She kept thinking that seeing them so close together still bothered him. Which was strange, since he had never acted that obvious around Jackson.

“Where’s Ethan?” Scott wanted to know. “Already looking?”

“Following the smell of the blood ..” Aiden answered him.

Lydia saw Scott raising his nose sniffing before he sighed. “I’m going to take a look as well.”

“Two noses smell more than one?” Stiles said taking out his cell phone. “I guess I can call my dad, can’t I?”

“Might be best, by the time he brings out the cavalry we’ll likely be done,” Scott replied. “You better stay here with Lydia and Aiden.”

“No complains, crime scene photos are enough for me,” he kicked a stone with his feet which then clanked loudly against the metal gate. “Oops.”

With a smile Scott looked at his friend and then in a show of acrobatic skill grabbed between the spikes on the top of the gate and lifted himself with a swift move over it. Leaning on the hood of his car, Stiles finally asked her. “So any other nighty disturbances?”

“No, until our wake up call, we had a very pleasant night.”

Aiden’s answer made her wonder just how jealous he truly was. Had noticing Peter’s scent on her started something or had he always acted like this? Lydia did not recall too many occasions where the three had been in one room. It was far more often, that she was talking or sitting close to Ethan and Aiden never gave of any signs of jealousy. Which in light of last nights threesome probably meant absolutely nothing. In a way, Ethan was Aiden’s other half. They could even literally form one person.

“Ah, well that’s something, if you go out for a corpse hunt, you might as well get a good rest beforehand.” Pulling out his cell phone he then began to make his call to tell his father where he was and why they were out here in the early morning hours.

Even Lydia could hear the Sheriff shouting, starting with a ‘what - you are where?’.

“Relax dad, I am absolutely safe - got Scott with me and the Twins and Lydia.” He gave Aiden a goofy smile and then listened for a moment to a reply Lydia could not make out.

“Yes, she found the body, hmm, well - not exactly - we lack the key master to open the gate. But it smells like blood according to them and Lydia is getting so much better at this …”

Then he hung up. “He is coming out here, to check things out before he brings in the brigade.”

“Doesn’t trust much in our senses, does he?” Aiden asked critically.

Lydia just thought that maybe it was a good thing to first have the sheriff come out and clear things up with them. She had no doubt anymore that the dead body was there, however she did wonder what it might look if the department would show up and find all of them there. Someone at the newspaper had already found out that she had been the one finding the one’s last year.

“He’s elected to the job, he just needs to make sure,” Stiles defended his father.

At this point, Ethan and Scott came walking back into the light left by Lydia’s car. They remained behind the gate but Ethan confirmed that it looked a lot like what she had described earlier. While they were not experts the killing could not have happened that long ago, given the blood was still somewhat fresh.

“Someone is really trying to hide their scent,” Scott finally said. “Lydia, Peter looks really good for this. I mean none of us four noticed his scent on you at your party and he certainly has tricks up his sleeve.”

“We certainly know that you all like him to be the killer. I’m not saying he isn’t but what if he’s not? What if he is trying to help us?” Lydia tried to calm herself down. It scared her what the others might do, because she had no idea what would happen if Peter ended up dead again. Maybe he would not be able to come back from the dead twice but if that thing in the crypt could haunt her her like that, she dreaded to think about what it might mean to have Peter in her head permanently.

“I really like this Mother Theresa-Jesus thing you got going on, I always knew you weren’t as jaded and selfish as anyone said,” Stiles began pointing his finger nervously at her. “But maybe you should save your concern for someone who didn’t leave you for dead on the Lacrosse field after he slashed you up.”

“He has a point,” Ethan agreed from behind the gate.

Lydia wanted to say that she was thinking about herself and how little she appreciated the comparison to either figures but instead she said nothing on the matter. She dealt more in reason, which was one reason why Stiles’ comment bugged her so much. “What we should do is consider all options, especially considering we do not have that many. Whatever happened to patrolling tonight? Weren’t you all supposed to keep a wider area covered?”

Hearing Scott take a sharp breath. “Exactly, Lydia - Peter waited till last night and instead of doing our usual surveillance, we’re focused on you. Allison and Isaac left to find out more, the Twins needed to watch out for you and Stiles and I have been trying to find Peter to talk with him.”

There was little to say against that, Lydia decided to lean even closer against Aiden. It was a really good point, her mind could not deny that. Yet, it was so contrary to what her instincts kept telling her, that she felt this rift inside her, as doubt began to gnaw on her theory that Peter was not responsible for this.

“Look, Lydia - this is about you being afraid what happens if Peter goes beyond the veil again,” Stiles pointed out, surprising her by being so observant. “But what if we find a way to protect you from him walking around in your dreams - then we can finally off him and make this world a better place.”

“Protect me how?” It was not that she was not hoping for an answer but it was so obvious that nobody really knew. It was all just wishful thinking. If there was a way to get rid of Peter’s influence she knew she would jump at it.

“You could ask, Deaton!” Scott said, “he gives good advice and he has been very helpful these past month.”

“Yeah, Scott has spent a great deal of time there …” Stiles added. “But he needed more information - maybe you should see him, tell him about the dreams, your other thingie and discuss what Peter might be up to. If anyone knows a strange ritual to get the creeper out of your head for good, I would place my bet on our mystical druid friend.”

The word ritual alone left a bitter taste in her mouth but she had to agree that asking could not hurt, after all she had given the same advice to the twins. Even if nothing came by it, she had at least tried. Even if he did not tell her anything that might give her some clues as well.

Then Stiles’ father showed up, he parked the car with the flash lights on on the road and told them to park their cars a bit further away from the gates. After talking to Scott and Ethan about the body, they realised that they needed an explanation for why they had found the body and at this hour of the night.

Scott suggests that he might have had some business for the animal clinic looking for a supposedly injured animal. Given the exception to the curfew in light of job related matters and Ethan suggested that if the gates were open already, maybe slightly torn, them taking a look would make sense.

“Yeah, and since going alone is dangerous, I came with Scott, we had car problems and called in the twins who brought along Lydia …” Stiles added and nodded in agreement with his made up excuse. “Perfect and simple.”

“Yeah and how are you going to open that sturdy old iron gate?” the Sheriff wanted to know.

Instead of a verbal reply, the three present alphas moved closer and tried to bend the gates open. There were not successful. Exchanging looks, Scott helped Ethan jump over to her side with a quick push. Lydia became honorary holder of the Twin’s tops as they merged together before tackling the gate once more.

As always it was a spectacle. Lydia was not as bothered by the weird display of bones and skin growing into each other as she used to be. In the end, she was far more impressed by the the muscles on their naked back working as the iron gate screechingly tore apart. However, the Sheriff was staring with a blank face before Stiles’ comment snapped him out of it.

Pointing at the combined twins, as he closed in on his father, he said. “See Dad, this is so much more effective than any speech you’ve ever given me about steroids.”

“This town is really getting weirder each month …” The sheriff shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Not sure I like the thought that things like this keep you from doing whatever dumb things other teenagers do.”

With the gate wide open, the sheriff pulled out a flashlight and walked past the twins who had separated again. They grinned amused at the reaction. Scott lead the way with Stiles and his dad following. Lydia and the twins followed after she handed them back their clothes.

“I hope you didn’t disturb the scene too much,” Stiles’ dad lambasted.

“Took a wide step around the body parts.” Ethan reassured them.

Scott who walked up front, explained that this time it looked even worse, that they need to watch out for the individual body parts. When they were close, they were asked to stay behind, while the Sheriff walked up the small hill. The light was not showing them much from the distance but Lydia knew what that first lump on the gravel path was: A torn off leg.

“Oh fuck.” The sheriff yelled after the ray from his flashlight halted on top of it. To anyone else watching it might have seemed like he was inspecting a rubber boot. But she recalled the ragged edges of the splintered bone, the torn flesh and teeth marks on the boot.

“Got to wonder what pissed off the Lord of the creepers that he littered that poor schmuck all over the place.”

Stiles looked at Aiden and her as a queasy feeling spread through her guts. Lydia didn’t want to think about it but the comment got to her. What she had seen in her dream was an epic escalation compared to the crime scene pictures from the previous ones. Then there was the question why she had dreamt about it this time. Had Peter sent her the dream? Seen her with the Twins and somehow gotten into a jealous rage? It was not like her being with Aiden in some way was news and she doubted that Peter cared all that much about whom she slept with. After all he had made her have sex with Deucalion. Which didn’t made Stiles’ suggestion any less unpleasant.

The sheriff did not spend much time up ahead, he ushered them a bit backwards and then went back to his car to call in the location. Lydia knew they were in for some questions but hoped that they would get through all of it quickly. The waiting would be the most annoying part, standing around until everyone had arrived and then even more time would pass until their statements could be taken down.

Before anyone else arrived they straightened out their stories as to why they were out here and how they had discovered the body. Scott called his boss to have back him up. They were all set before the first deputy came by to roll out the crime tape. At this point it occurred to Lydia that she had seen way too many crime scenes being set up already in her seventeen years.

Despite the sun finally beginning to rise it was still too dark to see much, so they were treated to a bit of extra light from the lamp posts. Then a lone figure in a suit walked up to them: Agent McCall waltzed in like the coming of a bad storm. Scott’s face darkened as he saw his father approach them with equally strained expression.

“A new body and my son and his clique right on scene,” the agent shook his head. “I’m surprised - no sign of Isaac or Allison?”

Lydia wondered if he was deliberately trying to antagonize his son or if that came naturally to him. Everyone clearly felt the same about the manner in which Agent McCall approached them. Only that instead of words they used stares and void expressions that might have even been creepy if they all had the same blonde haircut. Irritated, Scott’s father told them that they would have to wait and then he would talk to them at the station: since he now officially had taken over the investigation.

“But how could you let him take over?” Stiles asked his father as he passed them by after Agent McCall had gone to inspect the body or rather the individual parts.

The sheriff sighed. “It would seem that in our attempts to keep him occupied, he stumbled onto more killings with a similar MO and one of them was right over of the state line. This is now an official FBI investigation and in the next hour his team was going to arrive anyway.”

Knowing they would have to humour Agent McCall instead of giving a simple statement to the police, they all made long faces. This would mean even more time wasted. While the boys observed the ongoing treatment of the crime scene, continuing with the photographers coming in and putting little shields everywhere. Then the forensic guys arrived to take the body parts away. During all of this Lydia found herself wandering off to a less busy part of the old South Lane cemetery.

Back on their school trip that place had seemed almost eerily beautiful, especially here in the oldest part. Instead of an identical line of gravestones they all were pieces of art. Some had statues with shields, others had carved in images from angels over grim reapers to stars. The buildings had always seemed more like little houses than resting places for the dead.

Given all the recent close up experience with death and her dream about something coming at her from inside a tomb, Lydia found little left here that she might call beautiful. Having the others barely in her sight anymore, she found herself in front of a mausoleum that was a bit apart from the others. A pair of grimreapers stood guard with their scythes arched and frozen in cold grey stone. The architecture was a mix of gothic elements with Roman pillars and medieval carvings. Most bizarre was that it seemed completely left alone by the touch of time, there was not even moss or weeds visible. As she looked up to read the name of the family, the name plate was empty.

Taking a step forward she felt compelled to see if it might have been removed for cleaning when she suddenly saw something over the top of the doors. Only that the closer she got she realised that the doors were fake: Chiseled into the wall like the carvings. Yet through invisible cracks something red began seeping through, running over them and then towards her.

Lydia did not even realise she had been screaming until she was shaken out of her trance by her friends. There was no real time to explain anything, by the time she had come around Scott’s father had arrived to ask what the commotion was all about.

“Spider, there was a huge spider - like you wouldn’t believe how big,” Stiles helpfully explained.

Agent McCall’s face darkened as he told them to get to the police station right now. Then he made a whole show about having police officers drive them down and then have someone else take their cars to the station as well. Lydia got the impression he did that mostly to show them that he could, that he had the power. As if that would persuade any of them to tell him something. It was a far cry from the powers they would have to deal with.

Not that she minded racking in the back of the police car in between the twins. With the police officer listening they were not asking any questions of her and she was able to follow her own train of thoughts. Despite the fact that it was getting lighter outside, her mood darkened as she remembered very well having episodes like this before. Situations where she would freak out as she was having visions in the middle of the day. Visions that all had a common origin and purpose: Peter showing her what he wanted her to do.

This time she was again absolutely clueless to what was going on. If he was behind it, what it was about that mausoleum and if it had anything to do with him or the torn up body. After all there still was this thing in the crypt and she just had found where it was? But the vision had felt different, not like anything she had encountered before. It was not even remotely like her previous ones. Without more visions or clues she was completely unable to make any sense of them. The only good thing was that while she doubted her reasoning, at least she did not believe herself to be a total nutjob anymore. Maybe just a little bit too much under the influence of psychotic killer from beyond the grave.

Scott’s father kept them for hours at the police department, asking them the same questions all over again. At least he was given her the broken record treatment and Lydia assumed he was doing the same to her friends, whenever he walked out on her. It was tedious and by the time the Sheriff had convinced Agent McCall to let them go, it was past noon.


	12. Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia goes to ask Deaton for advice, when they finally hear from Allison and Isaac about Deucalion's fate and another discovery they made at the cabin in the woods ...
> 
>  
> 
> _“Do you think Peter is behind all this?” Lydia asked, hoping to get a more rational answer from him. Deaton was clearly no fan of Peter either but at least he seemed to be willing to view the situation without emotional bias. Something neither of her friends were capable of doing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First part beta-read by [AWaywardHunter](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4392546/), I hope I did an okay job with the rest ... but I wanted to give you a new chapter - since it has been almost three weeks.
> 
> [Chapter 11 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-11-dreamsanddeadbodies)

Finally released from police custody, they gathered outside and Scott looked at them, embarrassed. Even though nobody blamed him, he kept apologizing citing his reluctance to let his dad back into his life as the reason why he was such pain in their collective butts. It was a situation that was somewhat alien to all of them. Lydia’s parents were always too occupied to be so annoying, the twins never even mentioned theirs and Stiles had only one parent left who clearly had been more supportive even before he found out than Scott’s father had ever been.

“That was a perfect waste of a good morning,” Aiden commented.

Ethan smiled knowingly. “There’s no saying we can’t go back to bed - maybe after catching a late brunch.”

“Sure let’s go to Vivian’s - I’m paying,” Lydia agreed with the last part of that sentiment.

“Really?” Stiles asked surprised. “You look more like food might come out and not in … not that the bereft vampire look doesn’t suit you - but you still look pale.”

That was something all of the guys seemed to agree upon, like her being a bit pale was all that surprising. Lydia knew she wasn’t really sick but the night had been short, she had not eaten that much and after that episode at the cemetery she was just exhausted. Going back to bed, at least all by herself, sounded like a really good idea but she knew it was better to wait till tonight. There was no hurry on her side to fight off more dreams.

Right now she wished more than anything to have some time away from the twins, but since they were on alert she knew that was not going to happen. Adding Scott and Stiles even just for the duration of a late brunch or dinner would at least give her some space. Especially if Stiles started teasing them and he seemed to be in the mood for that.

In the past month Lydia had noted that whenever something was happening in relation to her and Aiden getting along, Stiles seemed to act stranger than usual. It was the main reason she had not opened the envelope he had given as a birthday present. Them being friends had felt like a good thing and Lydia had hoped that he was past his crushing on her phase. It was not that easy to figure out, asking him had only caused him to deny it. Joking that he was clearly not her type, given that he did not run around randomly killing people on the full moon, had not helped matters either.

He had sensed that she didn’t appreciate his observation and he had not brought it up again until the whole thing with Peter was dragged into the light. Then suddenly her crazy werewolf sex life was back on the table and it pissed her off that he had an opinion on it in the first place. They all seemed to and she dreaded what would happen if her friends found out the whole truth.

As Aiden drove her and Ethan to Vivian’s, a fancy bed and breakfast, with Scott and Stiles following in his Jeep, Lydia came to the conclusion that if Deucalion was indeed dead, she would not mention anything. Peter’s intention seemed obvious to her: he would like to keep the nature of the ritual secret. She was all too happy to make that happen.

“Wow, looks fancy,” Ethan stated as they pulled up in the parking lot.

“It’s where my parents park relatives they don’t like. Not that it means the food is bad, quite the opposite but it’s far away and comfortable enough that they rarely bother us.”

Aiden looked at her. “Your parents don’t like to mingle much .. I mean, they’re constantly travelling.”

Lydia explained how her parents stuck to higher society and then morphed into quite the socialites, only in Beacon Hills there were not that many opportunities. That was the main reason they were gone so often: they mingled with her father’s business associates. Beacon Hills used to be just the perfect environment to raise their little girl. Which ironically was not much of a selling point and made her wonder what they were telling their big city friends.

Sometimes it seemed to her that they were just waiting until she was old enough so they could resume their grand social life and just come by their home whenever Los Angeles got too hectic.

“Oh,” something else occurred just to her.

“What is it?” Scott asked worried as he approached her when she pulled out her phone. Stiles was still locking the Jeep which looked completely out of place next to all the fancy cars.

Rolling her eyes at the reaction she calmly called Mrs. Allen. As she had hoped their housekeeper had come by on her round and was now heavily criticising her for not feeding Prada. Which was what she had been calling about given that she just realised that between the sex and going out to find the body, she had totally forgotten to take care of her. Because of that Mrs. Allen decided to pick her up till her parents were back from their trip.

“I haven’t fed Prada since last night,” Lydia explained to them. “Shall we go in?”

They managed to get a table in the corner and went over what they knew once more. As they had almost finished it was Stiles who finally asked about her screaming at the cemetery.

“I keep thinking it might be some feedback from my dreams about the thing in the crypt,” Lydia shrugged. “It felt different. Maybe I’m just on the edge, maybe it is worth checking out.”

“What crypt was it?” Scott wanted to know.

“The one with the two grimreapers, I didn’t see the name.”

Stiles coughed. “Two? Damn that is extra tacky, given that most of the others dead bodies were doing okay with just one.”

As long as she did not have to go near that mausoleum again Lydia was fine with them checking it out and had Aiden and Ethan drive her to Deaton’s. It was a conversation she needed to treat carefully to not give away too much but with some good solid food in her stomach she felt ready for it. It was time to get a few answers.

Splitting up again, Lydia found herself annoyed with the twins insisting on driving. Not that she argued, there were certainly more important things to complain about. She even appreciated their concern to a certain level, it was just that they were grating on the end of the scale. Then as if her tolerance levels were not already stretched to the limits, her cell phone rang..

It was the call she was dreading all day long: Allison.

“Heh, Allison,” Lydia said with faked cheerfulness.

The twins eyed her and she realised that she had not really thought about how important that call was for them, too. They never talked about how they actually felt about Deucalion. He had violated their trust by murdering Ennis for his agenda, but he also had freed them from a very abusive situation. Maybe if they each had their own screwed up, inadequate parent, Deucalion was theirs.

“Lydia - I …” Allison reluctantly began then broke off.

There was a certain dread to her voice and Lydia felt the tension rising in the car. Even without putting the phone on speaker, they could hear every word.

“You found him?”

It was better to know than for it to remain unclear. Luckily they had arrived at the Beacon Hill’s animal clinic and Aiden had stopped the car before Allison was replied.

“No, no sign of Deucalion at the cabin - although Isaac found his scent and traced it a few miles out to the river,” Allison said with her voice as flat and cold as before.

At that point Lydia knew that somehow her friend knew or at least had a solid idea what went down in that cabin. “So that means - Deucalion is still alive. Great, thanks for finding out.”

Then she hung up. “Well, it’s better than finding another body, isn’t?”

Her attempt to get out of the car was cut short when Aiden took a hold of her arm. “Lydia - what is going on?”

“Nothing, it’s just I want to talk to Deaton and go home.”

Then her phone rang again. Lydia wanted to turn it off but it slipped through her fingers when she grabbed it too fast. Ethan took a hold of it and after looking at it for a second answered it.

“That’s my phone.”

Protest was obviously useless so she slipped out of the car, the moment Aiden let go of her arm. With fast strides she headed toward the entrance of the clinic almost bumping into an old lady who had a monstrous doberman on a leash. Deaton’s eyes widened with surprise after she burst in and was followed not two minutes later by the Aiden.

Deaton opened the door and invited her inside. “Why don’t you come in and we talk?”

Lydia quickly rushed into the treatment room. A quick glance behind her told her that she could not deal with Aiden right now. He was not even angry, Aiden just looked lost and that made this even worse.

“Would you like to sit down?” Deaton pulled out a chair for Lydia.

“No, I’m good. I just need a moment,” Lydia shook her head.

“Of course.”  
Going back outside, she heard him suggesting that they might want to go around the block or come back later. Lydia heard Ethan say something about her phone after he came in and then the door bells chimed and she had the impression they walked outside. It was a few moments before Deaton came back to join her. He was not pressuring her and instead asked Lydia if she would help him holding a cat whose stitches he needed to pull.

Once the furry patient was taken care of, Lydia finally found the words to begin.

“Scott told you about the body I found - before I actually got there …”

He nodded. “Yes, he mentioned that.”

“I have no idea what to make of those dreams and …” Lydia stopped. “It was like a week ago, I didn’t even remember what I dreamt and now I feel like I’m pulled in all directions.”

Deaton let her talk. Crossing his arms and leaning back he looked at her if he knew exactly that she was leaving out the main problem. He had to know about it given that Scott was basically hovering around his boss for advice since he had turned Alpha.

“You opened yourself to powers that you can’t control,” he finally said.

No matter how neutral his voice sounded, Lydia felt that some criticism lay within those words. It was not what he had said, but that hinted at something she feared: that there was no way she would ever be able to control any of it. Even Peter had just mentioned her being able to manage them better.

“It’s not that different from what it was last autumn,” she defended herself. “But if ignoring it is your advice, nevermind …” It was pure frustration talking when she turned to leave, despite not being ready to.

“Lydia,” his calm voice called her. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me - what exactly is going on with you.” After she had taken the first few steps towards the chair Deaton added: “And what happened between you and Peter Hale since the new moon.”

Even though it was little use to deny what had happened in that cabin, she started off by telling Deaton how Peter got her talking about her dreams and that it sounded like someone was blocking them. That Peter said he could help her with controlling them so she might even be able to predict death before they happened instead of stumbling over the dead bodies afterwards. How she wanted to be able to do that.

“Peter told me to just focus on what I remembered after I woke up and somehow I ended up remembering a whole lot more …” she paused. “But I didn’t just want to rely on what Peter told me, so I went out for more information.”  
Without mentioning Yoon or the store by name she described her experience with finding the book and using that information to literally bring light into her dreams. When she showed Deaton her bruised wrist, his reaction was more subtle than Peter’s but Lydia could tell that it concerned him as well.

“The others are convinced it is all Peter - the killings, the dreams …” she sighed. “But what I felt in that dream that was something else.”

Deaton asked her to describe the dreams in greater detail and she did, but when Lydia wanted to know if that meant anything to him, he put her off by stating that he was not sure. It might be that Deaton wasn’t certain but he was thinking of something and keeping that part to himself. It made her even less enthusiastic about asking him more about her dreams, but something else was on her mind and maybe he would be more open to talk about that.

“Do you think Peter is behind all this?” Lydia asked, hoping to get a more rational answer from him. Deaton was clearly no fan of Peter either but at least he seemed to be willing to view the situation without emotional bias. Something neither of her friends were capable of doing.

“Power can poison the mind. Peter craves power. Killing has never been a big deterrent for him.”

“Yet, he didn’t kill Deucalion,” Lydia pointed out.

“If he hasn’t - then him staying alive will benefit Peter in some way.”

A revelation that was not all that breathtaking since Lydia had long since figured out that nearly everything Peter did was going to help him more than anyone else. Was it that naive to hope that maybe he was just not killing someone to not have to kill? Given that this was Deucalion Deaton was of course right. The former leader of the alpha pack was a potential danger, he was not the person Peter was going to spare out of some newfound kindness. That touched on the other thing that she needed to ask. Though convinced there would be nothing resembling a real answer, she gave it a try.

“Why go through the trouble of a ritual in the first place? Wouldn’t it have been far simpler to just take Deucalion’s life and thus his powers? I mean that’s how they do it, isn’t it?”

“Under normal circumstances,“ Deaton picked up one of his glasses with herbs. “I told Derek that what Peter did last year came with a price. I knew he would be physically weak - there might have been more to it.”

Lydia nodded, she had expected such a reason. It was either that Peter was only able to take the power back through a ritual or the even more despicable version: he did it this way to gain more than just the alpha power from Deucalion. There was no need to put out the thought when Deaton clearly did not knew anything concrete about the nature of the ritual either. It would just be one more person sharing the details of that night.

“Last time, you knew what the killings were about - how about this time?”

Deaton smiled evasively as he looked at her. “I assure you, if I could tell you anything, I would.”

Groaning in frustration Lydia got out of the chair. “In other words we got no idea what the killings are about, how many killers are active, whether Peter is one of them or not. I dream of some creepy thing in a crypt that I’ve gotten a lot closer to since I listened to Peter’s advice about dreaming more pro-actively. Then suddenly I find bodies and have awful daymares … and you can’t point out anything at all?”

Softly sighing he kept fiddling with his specimen glasses. “What do you expect me to say, Lydia?”

“Maybe give some advice? Isn’t that Emissaries are supposed to be good at? Should I try and work on the dreams, even if that means listening to Peter? Should I just lie back see what dreams roll in? Maybe I should go skiing in Aspen,” Lydia snapped in frustration. “Given that I hate skiing and being cold I’m surprised how nice that sounds.”

“Sooner or later the true foe will reveal itself. If you force him out, I’m afraid you’ll get hurt. Peter might promise you control but that doesn’t mean that no harm will come from your attempts.”

Looking at her wrist Lydia wondered if he realised that she had already been hurt by this or if he was hinting at something worse. Either way, she had the feeling Deaton simply did not know what was going on. Given that his suggestion had powered the Nemeton and gotten themselves in this mess, Lydia wondered what was going on with him. But if there was some piece of useful information to be revealed, she would dig for it.

“Peter said he sensed the involvement of something undead,” Lydia tried giving Deaton more info. “That from what I’ve told him about my latest dreams, whatever it was, it’s very powerful. Does that ring any bell?”

If she sounded more agressive it, Lydia knew it was because she could not believe that Peter was actually more helpful with solving this, than the most knowledgeable person involved in causing it. Deaton unscrewed the lid of a jar filled with some dried herbs that ranged from dark red over brown to black and spread them over the table and then drew them into a circle. With his fingers he drew in rings, leaving a big one on the outside, a few smaller ones on the inside and a handful of them in the middle.

“Each of these,” Deaton held up one of them, “represents one thing outside the natural realm. Some of these are alive, some are dark and dead. The outer circle is the mass of things that are powerful but harmless compared those on the inside. Our goal is to keep balance, if we can limit the impact these have on the natural world we will. What we do not do or know is each and every one of these by name and intention.”

Lydia stared at the weird made up illustration. “So these things, they all try to destroy balance? What exactly does that mean?”

“Not all of them, but if one individual masses up too much power, they tend to disrupt the natural order. Those who are already dead, literally need to feed on the powers of others and for those there is never enough.”

“So if there is a powerful undead entity running around Beacon Hills, it is feeding and things will only get worse. It won’t stop,” Lydia said to make sure she had understood correctly. “Unless something more powerful stops it.”

“I’ve every confidence that Scott will be able to stop it, once it will reveal itself,” Deaton said very sure of himself.

“So werewolves can be that powerful?” she looked at the herb circles and realised something. “That is why the druids helped them in the first place. You need them to help you go against other supernatural threats.”

Deaton gave one single nod, then just kept looking at her. “Normally, a healthy pack is in balance with their surrounding. They keep their territory clean from other predators, they achieve an inner balance under each other and they usually don’t run around murdering people. At least that’s how it used to be.”

“You are not just referring to Peter’s attempts to gain power …”

“No, things have changed with modern times. However, even if Peter intends to help, he’s doing it for his own reasons. If he believes you can do something for him, he will use any method from force to cunning to get it.”

“Tell me something I don’t know …”

“The things Peter knows, that are beyond my area of expertise, are mostly rooted in witchcraft. I can’t tell you what to expect but that’s a great concern. While witches have their own methods of keeping balance, they are more about their inner balance. They can get incredibly powerful.”

He put down another herb in the second innermost circle. Given his tone, Lydia had the feeling that it might not always be the worst thing if a witch gained power. As with everything else there was not enough information to get any idea what it was that worried the druid. She had not forgotten that Peter had told her about his friendship with two witches that ended in so far unmentioned terms.

“How come that Peter knows about witchcraft?”

“How, does he find out a lot of things?” Deaton shrugged. “He was always curious, listening. But that is of course not all. As you probably noticed, while Peter is Derek’s uncle he is not that much older than him. The reason for that: Peter and Talia have different mothers.”

“So Peter’s mother was a witch?” Lydia concluded and wondered if this was the reason why him associating with the other witches had been discouraged. It had to be, even if she did not fully understand why that was a problem for Derek’s mother or the mother of the other witches.

“While witchcraft is something that needs to be honed and trained, there is no denying that Peter certainly had the capabilities to do so,” Deaton sighed.

“On top of being a werewolf?” Lydia said without really needing answer to that question either. “That was also why they didn’t want Derek or Peter near the Nemeton, out of fear what he might do with his untrained witch powers.”

Even though none of this really gave her any concrete answers as to whether Peter had anything to do with the killings or whether she should let him help her in the first place, the picture became a little clearer around the edges.

“I always thought, Peter wasn’t aware of this hidden set of talents, but given that he obviously found a way to transfer power from another werewolf to himself, I think you need to be aware of the danger he might pose to you for that reason alone.”

It sounded almost like Deaton was warning her that Peter was going to do the same to her, but if she could get rid of her powers, then Peter was more than welcome to wake up screaming in the night with a need to go out and look for torn up bodies.

“In that case, I’m glad that you decided to tell me.” Or more likely that she was able to drag it out of him, as if this particular information might not have been useful or at least worth mentioning before. Lydia still allowed herself to smile briefly. She had discovered more than she had expected and she felt less crazy for thinking that Peter might not be involved in the killings. Right now, she decided that there were three things she needed to focus on.

First, she needed to figure out some protection or hope that Peter actually came through for her on that one. That way she would be able to see the thing in the crypt. Secondly, she needed to convince the others to give the sex ritual business some rest and that they should work together: Lydia did not like the thought of another killing occurring but if Peter was with them, her friends would know it was not him and they could finally move on. Lastly, she needed to figure out why she had a vision on the cemetery and how her dead body locating dream fit into all of this.

The only reason she hesitated to leave was now that she didn’t want to deal with the twins right now. Unfortunately, they had the keys to her cars and it was an unavoidable conversation. With a final look from the herb diagram to Scott’s boss, she shouldered her handbag. “Thanks ..”

As she was not sure what for, Lydia just turned and headed towards the door, when she pulled it open, Deaton left her with a final piece of advice. “Don’t let Peter convince you he’s the only one who can help you. You have friends and there are better options than him out there.”

Looking back for a moment, she shrugged. That was not the most enlightening piece of advice she had ever heard. It was not like she intended to only listen to Peter, but she was more convinced than before that hearing what Peter had to say could not hurt. Not with something out there and Deaton obviously hoping that somehow Scott will just manage the problem. The last time they had let things just happen without even trying to cover all the bases had ended up with giving power to the Nemeton. Which was obviously the thing that Talia Hale had feared her brother would do. It was certainly ironic that it had been them who ended up doing it, because of her attempts to stop this from happening.

The moment Lydia stepped out to the parking lot, she saw the twins who were waiting at her car. They seemed pretty uneasy but she did her best to just walk up and act as if nothing had been going on. “I’m pretty sure I’ve learned something. So if you don’t want to ask him anything - maybe you can give me the keys so I can drive us home.”

“Lydia … maybe we should talk about this,” Aiden began sounding like some personal tragedy had hit him. Maybe her having wild crazy sex with two other men could count as that, maybe he would feel better if she was all torn up about it. Lydia had no idea but she didn’t like his reaction to this at all.

“Maybe, but not here,” Lydia decided firmly. “And since I’m clearly not the one looking all pale and queasy now, I’m driving.”

They nodded at each other and handed her the keys. They clearly wanted to say something more but as their gaze went over the parking lot the twins obviously realised that this was not the location to discuss such matters. Lydia was not sure what there was to talk about anyway. She had been the one actually forced into the ritual and if she was able to deal, why were they not able to?

As Lydia started the car, she could not help but wonder if they maybe just were freaked out by the idea that she had slept with their sort-of-father figure. If she was honest that part was the one that got to her the most . This was the reason why she had smacked a bottle onto Peter’s head. It wasn’t the most satisfying comeback but she didn’t feel the need for more. There was already enough violence in her life lately, adding more made her feel more uncomfortable than anything else.

On the way in the car, the twins didn’t said anything, but out of the blue Aiden pointed out that even if Peter had Deucalion’s power now, that they still could find a way to kill him. Ethan added that Peter certainly had it coming.

“Can we just quit the killing talk?” Lydia replied after they had said their piece. “I don’t want you to get hurt, I don’t want you to kill anyone - not for me and not out of some misguided sense of justice.”

It was obvious that this did not sit well with them. Even with her eyes on the road she saw the shifting movements, heard the tapping against the door.

“How can you let him get away with it?” Aiden wanted to know. “It’s horrible enough to think that he did … but to have you …”

Lydia felt that his reaction was somewhat justified, even though the way he was not even able to say it made her more angry than anything. It was like she should feel horrified, unable to even put into words what happened, when it was actually very easy for her.

“You act like having a threesome is the worst thing in the world.”

“Wait, you mean he didn’t just made you have sex with … he, too”, Ethan seemed to have taken to his brother’s method of omitting key words. It gave this whole thing a too horrible to mention tone that Lydia did not appreciate at all.

Pursing her lips she gave a little shrug. She wasn’t going to put on an act just because they clearly needed her to be aghast beyond reason. “Yes, they both had their dicks in me at the same time. Get over it.” Lydia sighed when she glanced sideways. The expression on Aiden’s face was positively dark and hurt. “I did,” she added quietly but not overly confident.

She was not sure about how well she had gotten over it, given the fact that she still could not comprehend why she kept getting aroused every time she recalled the whole experience. That was another reason she had no interest in going over it with the Twins.

“Well, we’re glad you were not hurt, we won’t let him near you again.” Ethan clearly handled it better than his brother.

“In order to solve this problem, we might need to work together,” Lydia pointed out.

“If he’s anything to say, he can phone it in. Besides I’ve the feeling, even if we don’t - your friend might feel differently about it,” Aiden replied coldly.

Of course, there was Allison, Lydia had almost forgotten the tone of her voice. Now, she wished she hadn’t mentioned the threesome part, given that they clearly had not known about that. If Allison found out that detail, she was probably going to freak out completely. Somehow Lydia knew it was not going to be Peter who would get hurt in that confrontation.

Back home, she noticed that Mrs. Allen had cleaned up everything. The bedding was gone to be cleaned, new fresh linens were on her bed and there was not a trace of blood or chaos in her room. Lydia had left the twins downstairs, they needed to make some calls, Ethan to Danny and Aiden wanted to see what Scott and Stiles had found out. Sitting on her bed, she removed the heavy hiking boots and rubbed her sore feet.

“Why don’t you let me?” Aiden offered suddenly.

Standing in the door with his cell phone he walked over to her side.

“I thought you’d a call to make.”

She pulled her feet onto the bed and sat on them. The next best thing to telling Aiden that she was not in the mood for a massage. Lydia had hoped for some time alone, to close her eyes for a moment and maybe think about something to calm Allison down with before her friend did something they all might regret.

“I’ve spoken to Scott, they will come over later on.” Hesitating a bit, he sat down next to her. “I get the feeling I did something wrong, if so, tell me - I can’t imagine what you are going through but I can’t help you unless you tell me what you want me to do.”

“How about giving me some space?” Lydia said as nicely as she could.

At one point she thought that one could never have too much attention but on this day she realised that this was very much the case. It was touching that they immediately shifted into full bodyguard mode but there seemed to be an demand on her to give them directions that she was not quite sure how to fulfill.

Furthermore, she was hoping for a chance to talk to Peter, if only to ask him more questions.He might even have found a solution to the thing attacking her in her dreams. With the twins in the house and even worse with Scott coming over as well, he might not show up anytime soon. If Peter did show up, then she still needed to convince him and the others to work together.

“If that’s what you want …,” he said with clear disappointment in his voice. “But you should know that we want to be there for you. We might not be a real pack but we can give each other comfort. For that we need to be close.”

Lydia shook her head, it was all good the night before, right now there was little comfort be had with them looking at her like that. They acted like somehow they could magically make everything better just by being close but that was not the case. It had been extremely nice to fall asleep next to them but it was not exactly a magic band aid for her current state of mind.

Even more troubling was the fact that as far as being made comfortable went, the night she had spend with Peter had actually come much closer to that. Lydia rubbed the bridge of her nose; it was too bizarre. She hoped that it was just this whole dream channel power lines mix up.

“I’m really glad you are there for me, but I’m not actually pack. I never will be,” Lydia tried to explain. “Right now, I need a bit of time to myself.”


	13. Home Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Twins are super over protective of Lydia since they found out about what really happened in that cabin in the woods and Lydia can't handle it. So when Peter shows up, she needs all her wits to be calm enough to ask what she needs to know while trying to see through his manipulations.
> 
> _Her heart was beating faster but it certainly was not because she was afraid. Lydia knew that Peter was not going to harm her. Just as she knew that he was not involved in the killings either. As much as her friends had made her question how much of that was him influencing her, she knew that she had to trust herself. If Peter had gotten that far into her head, then nothing of what she dreamt or saw could possibly matter. So she had to believe in herself and her new banshee powers. Those told her that whatever haunted her dreams these days was what actually killed people, because it felt so different. Since Peter clearly wanted her to find it and she did want the same, there was no reason to harm her. It was actually quite the opposite._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my awesome beta [AWaywardHunter](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4392546/) I can bring you the next chapter. 
> 
> [Chapter 12 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-12-Advice)

The only other interruption for the afternoon was a handyman coming by. Mrs. Allen had noticed her broken door lock and made an appointment for the next morning but the man had finished another job in the neighbourhood and had found time that afternoon. The worst part were his jokes about a lover’s quarrel when wondering what happened to the door.

“Something like that,” Lydia commented.

She had re-dressed to something less practical but was still barefoot. Sitting on her bed she was having another look at her notebook. She decided to write down the vision and other elements about the dreams. The notebook began to look more and more like the manual of crazy person with all the eyes she had drawn into it. At least it gave her the idea to maybe ask Yoon about the symbolism of eyes, as well as how she knew Peter.

When the repairs were done, she slipped into some pumps and led the handyman to the front door. It was dark already and she found herself staring across the lawn. Some cars were parking nearby and most of them seemed familiar. There was no sign of a certain jeep, not that she believed he would park it in sight.

“Maybe you should stay inside,” Aiden suggested.

Lydia turned in disbelief. “You mean in case Peter is sitting out there with a sniper rifle?”

“That’s a pretty stupid suggestion - I just thought you wanted to head out …”

“Not in those shoes,” with that she closed the front door.

“Have you thought about what to do tonight? Should I go get another movie? Maybe one that you like more, like The Notebook or something?”

“Oh gosh no, not that one.” It showed just how badly they felt if Aiden volunteered getting that movie. Given that the last time she had sent someone to fetch that movie, someone did get killed she had sworn of it. In hindsight, it had not been that good anyway. It was a reminder how her parents liked to handle it when she was freaking out: supply her with medication that calmed her down. Then, in addition, sessions with a councillor Lydia did not feel like she could open up to.

She could only hope that things would blown over by the time her parents came back. Otherwise she might have to sneak Aiden in and then it would be hard to argue or stick him in the guest room.

“I don’t know - how about you do something you like, I’ll be reading a book …” she suggested and then something else occurred to her. “Ethan could also go and see if Danny has time. There’s no need to hover.”

“If Peter really has Deucalion’s powers - we’ll only be able to fight him off together.”

Ethan agreed from his place on the couch. “I’d really like to invite Danny over - but it is just too dangerous. I don’t want him to get dragged into this.”

A reasoning that her friends had applied to her as well. Although unlike Danny she had been directly involved. Shrugging she had to agree with that. “I just don’t feel like talking, so do what you want - I’ll be up in my room.”

Maybe she was not fair to them, since they were willing to look out for her but Lydia was not up to getting looked at the way they kept doing it. It was like they were watching every step of hers as if was going to fall any second. The thing was she didn’t even feel like she needed them. Peter had already performed his ritual. It was her who wanted answers from him. If anything their latent aggression towards him was getting in the way of that. Not that she did not want them around, she just hoped they would tone it down a notch.

“You know, we thought maybe you should talk with Scott’s mom about it.”

Ethan nodded. “She could check you out and maybe give better advice than your friend?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. She could almost not believe that they brought it up within five minutes of her being around them. “Guys, a) I’m fine, b) I doubt she can give me the advice I need and c) again, I’m doing fine. Maybe you’ll need some therapy - that is if Mrs. Morrell will even see you, given you tried to kill her last year.”

That at least got them to look embarrassed for a moment, which she used to hurry upstairs. Yet, Aiden needed to follow her to tell her that if she needed anything, she could just tell him. All she wanted was some time alone and she told him that in no uncertain terms. Once she got to her room, she took advantage right away of her lock being repaired and closed the door. Leaning against it, she could tell that he was standing outside.

“We’re just worried. It can’t be good if you act like everything is fine after something so terrible happened to you.”

Lydia took a step back from the door as she stared through the wood, it was pure anger and frustration that got her to yell through the door at him. “Actually, it was the best sex I’ve ever had!”

She heard a thud against the door - not hard enough to break the lock again but she saw the door vibrate from it. While she knew she would regret her comment, Lydia had not been prepared for how soon that would be the case. She had barely turned away from the door when she felt a hand closing over her mouth.

With her surprised gasp muffled, she found herself face to face with Peter. From the glowing smile on his face there was no doubt that he had heard her. Reaching with one hand around her, he used the remote to turn on the music on her stereo. After a moment he let go off her but she was still too mortified to say anything at all.

“Don’t worry, if we keep it down, they won’t hear anything. Especially not with his heart pumping like that.” His tone seemed almost casual but she heard the amusement.

Even though he had not said anything about her comment, Lydia had the feeling he would. She kept thinking about saying that she had not meant it, that it had been to get a rise out of Aiden for being so annoying. But Lydia knew it would not be very convincing and given how long she had waited already just staring back at Peter it would only make her seem more vulnerable.

“Have you ever heard of door bells?” she finally managed to say.

“As much as I’d love to see their faces when they open the door and I’m standing there - I don’t think it be a particularly wise move.”

Lydia felt like pointing out that he didn’t use the doorbell the night before last either but she didn’t really want to bring up the bottle incident.

“Rough day?” he eventually asked.

“That would be an understatement,” Lydia said and finally managed to walk past him. For a brief moment she considered sitting down in front of her computer but then kicked off her shoes and sat on the bed. “After the last killing everyone is even more convinced that you’re behind it all. Given that they also know what happened at the cabin, I doubt that’s going to change.”

Peter leaned on the chair in front of her desk. “I could say that by focusing on me they are wasting precious time better spent on the real killers.” He laughed a bit, clearly trying to keep his voice down. “The thing is, we both know that they are not going to find anything by patrolling the woods at night. So it hardly matters what they are doing. I just hope they’ll be doing a better job protecting you when it will matter.”

Nobody had pegged the chances of finding anything during the patrols as particularly high. Maybe that was why focusing on Peter as the suspect was so much easier for them. It was almost disheartening how little he seemed to care about being their number one suspect. Just like it was disheartening that he seemed to enjoy frightening her.

“What do you mean, ‘when it will matter’?”

Letting go of the chair he circled around to the other side of her bed. “Very simple, if anyone is going to find out what is doing these killings, it will be you. It clearly tried to block you from seeing it, when you went on the offense it worked it’s way towards killing you and once it realises it cannot - it will come after you outside your dreams.”

Realising that she was clutching her pillow, Lydia tried to appear less anxious. “Come after me how?” she asked as he sat down on the edge of her bed.

“Hard to say without knowing what it is capable off - but given that it has doubtlessly killed some of those people …” Peter took her hand, looking at her bruised wrist. “You obviously managed to avoid it last night.”

Her heart was beating faster but it certainly was not because she was afraid. Lydia knew that Peter was not going to harm her. Just as she knew that he was not involved in the killings either. As much as her friends had made her question how much of that was him influencing her, she knew that she had to trust herself. If Peter had gotten that far into her head, then nothing of what she dreamt or saw could possibly matter. So she had to believe in herself and her new banshee powers. Those told her that whatever haunted her dreams these days was what actually killed people, because it felt so different. Since Peter clearly wanted her to find it and she did want the same, there was no reason to harm her. It was actually quite the opposite.

“Instead I ran into another dream …” she began and when he raised a curious eyebrow, Lydia told him everything about the other dream that lead to her knowing where the body was and the vision she had at the cemetery. When she started she also took her hand back, not too fast and not too slow. Lydia did not want him to know how much actual contact made her feel flustered.

Talking it over with him was actually the most helpful conversation she had all day, as he was able to offer theories why this other dream suddenly came when it hadn’t before. Peter also seemed to stop advancing on her and remained on his end of the bed, while she sat with her pillows as a shield where her head usually rested.

“Whatever is doing the weekly murders is clearly not as powerful. By the time those started, the other entity was already in town and probably actively blocking you. It might be that by steering away from it last night - you opened yourself to this death.”

“This time I saw the body in my dream,” she began explaining how she wondered if that’s how she found the other bodies, by dreaming about the location but not remembering it. That maybe she dreamt about the other people Jennifer killed and just did not find the bodies because she did not recognise the locations.

“And you worry it will only get worse the better you get at this ..” Peter recognized her worries right away. “In theory you should be able to dream the kill itself before it happens. I know, not a very pleasant prospect - but you can handle it.”

Lydia laughed nervously. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Try seeing it this way - in the future, if something shows up, you will be able to identify it that much faster and we can stop it.”

It was actually a good point but it did not make her feel any less worse about the thought that these brutal murders might play out in her dreams in high definition. Then there was the additional matter of the vision. “What I still don’t get is why I had that vision.”

“I have no idea, you’re sure it wasn’t the thing from the dream?” Seeing her nod, he continued. “I think it would be best if you get Stiles to do some research on the cemetery and the mausoleum in question. If there’s anything to be found, I’m sure he’ll discover it.”

Lydia realised he really had no problem using them to get to the bottom of this. Although it might be debatable if one could really speak about using when the common goal was to stop the killings. “Why are you so interested in getting this to stop?”

“You mean since I am such a self-invested person …” he replied. “Putting an end to these killings is actually in my best interest. This is my home town - people getting ripped apart by animal-like creatures will bring Beacon Hills to the attention of the wrong people.”

That sounded about right, although she wondered what else he was planning. Then again there was nothing to prove that the ritual and the killings weren’t connected. It might just be that Peter had made his grab for power and was now cleaning his own backyard before he had a bunch of hunters along with the FBI on his track.

“So how about finding out more about that thing in the crypt dream?”

“Return tomorrow around noon to Yoon - she said she has some sort of crystal that should absorb whatever negative energy that thing throws at you,” Peter told her.

“A crystal?” That sounded somewhat silly but given that Yoon was not a kidder, that her book had actually been helpful, Lydia was inclined to give it a chance. “How do you know her anyway?”

“I was looking for a book and much to my surprise that lead me to her store,” Peter shrugged and it occurred to Lydia that she had found Yoon in much the same way. “Apart from all the fake new age merchandise, she actually has the real thing. As you might have noticed.”

Peter looked over at the book Yoon had given her and Lydia had an idea.

“Did you tell her to give me the book?”

“No, I hadn’t counted on you going to her store, given the somewhat phony front,” Peter said and oddly enough she believed him. It had been a pretty unlikely step for her but very real magic interrupting her normal life had left her desperate. The need for answers made her willing to do strange things. Peter continued to explain. “Just as I didn’t expect you to make progress that fast. But that’s a good thing, apart from it putting you in danger of course.”

“Yes, of course, I wouldn’t be much use if I was dead,” she said coldly.

He gave her chastising look. “Come on, you don’t think I’m just looking out for you because I want to use your powers?” Lying down with his head next to her thighs, he looked up at her. “Don’t you think we generally make a great team? Think about all that we’ve already accomplished. We clearly have the most fantastic sex with each other ..:”

There it was, only that by this point in their talk Lydia felt a total sense of disbelief. There was this casualness with which he brought it up, that made her groan and roll her eyes. Before he went on she dropped her pillow on his head and scooted off her bed. As she looked back, he was hugging the pillow and lounging on her covers.

“Not to mention we are both gorgeous and intelligent people, despite having gotten off to a bad start, I think we’d make a very cute couple.”

Lydia literally felt her mouth drop open. It was probably the most self-absorbed proposal for a relationship she’d heard since she had dated Jackson. With a sigh it occurred to her that her whole infatuation with Jackson was based on how good they would look together, with both of them having rich parents, the upper-class connection and the knowledge that they both looked damn good in their designer clothing.

“No, thanks, the next time I consider a relationship it won’t be with someone who merely thinks I’ll make him look better.”

“Still bitter about Jackson leaving you?” Clearly a rhetorical question but for some reason she felt like saying something.

“Why would I be? Serves me right for dating someone whose first love was himself.” After this whole Kanima thing, Lydia would have thought that he’d at least bother to skype or e-mail with her. Since he was not able have sex with her anymore, Jackson obviously saw no need to bother. It was not like he hadn’t dropped her before when he was busy trying to get the bite. It was so infuriating to think about that.

“A person who loves you above all else …” Peter cocked his head and stared up at the ceiling. “As if you really want that. You can barely handle those two downstairs hovering about you.”

Lydia could not quite follow that line of thought. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Very simple, those types end up being incredibly overprotective. While you certainly need someone to protect you from all the things no doubt will come at you - you don’t want someone who seeks to protect you from yourself. I know you are way stronger than any of your friends give you credit for.”

It was just like him to casually threaten her with the prospect of a future filled with more supernatural threats. He was also right about her getting fed up with everyone acting like she was super traumatized and about to fall apart any moment. Lydia was not about to let him get away with acting like her friends purposefully ignored her being able to deal with all of this.

“That’s because they have no idea what you put me through last year.”

He nodded. “I suppose that’s a fair point, then again, they have not exactly cared to find out.”

Lydia shook her head when she realised what he tried to accomplish. As if she would really let him alienate her from her friends by pointing out that he knew more about her ability to deal with crap than them. She had a hard time believing he thought she was going to fall for this. So instead of arguing that her friends did care but probably did not feel like bringing up that clearly difficult time for her.

“It’s not working, I’m not going to hold it against them, that they didn’t feel like bringing it up again.”

As she said it, Lydia realised that she was a tiny bit jilted by the fact that they never really had asked what had possessed her to do the resurrection ritual in the first place. That Peter made her do it somehow seemed to be enough for them. Just as they had barely paid any attention to any freak outs she had during that time. Sure they had been there trying to calm her down but none of them had even bothered to ask her what really was going on with her.

Then after the whole kanima incident was over, it was like between summer break and Jackson leaving there was nothing to tell except filling her in a bit about all the werewolfy things she had missed. Even that had happened at a time when Allison was very short lipped about anything supernatural and especially things related to Scott. If their little circle had one issue, it certainly was communication. Still, she was not going to let that get between them.

“Sure, they’re your friends and they only got your best interests at heart.”

Lydia was not sure if he was mocking them or if he was serious. Either way, he was not gaining any points with her. “As opposed to you only having your own best interests at heart.”

A sigh escaped him. “Why does everyone act as if that is such a terrible thing? A pack needs a strong alpha, you know how Derek’s approach worked: when he was not busy moping in solitude he tried to fix problems he made by selflessly putting his life in danger. Had he followed my evil self-centered advice, far less people would have died.”

They all knew that Derek had not done the best job after he became the alpha, that was the one thing everyone kept pointing out to her. Given that Erica and Boyd were both dead, because of him turning them and not being able to keep them together as a pack, it was hard to deny but she had a hard time believing that just because Derek had made mistakes that meant Peter’s approach was the better one.

“He came back for me when Jennifer came after me.”

“True. He also sent his pack out to kill you. Based on really flimsy evidence,” Peter said clearly pleased with his argument.

It was really something that was hard to argue with. Derek always seemed to lose in comparison, for every good thing one could point out three things he messed up.

Lydia instead pointed out something else. “Let’s not forgot who almost did kill me. Which incidentally was also the reason why Derek thought I was the kanima in the first place.”

“Ah, yeah - you got me there.” For a moment it seemed that was indeed the case but then sat up and added. “Of course, I hadn’t actually tried to kill you. I just needed to get Stiles to see things my way.”

If he thought that this was going to help his case, Lydia was determined to show that he was wrong. Of course she knew that this had not been about her in the beginning. That almost made it worse, it just showed how thoughtlessly he did treat people. At least she began to realise what this all was about, he did try to flatter her, get her to see her friends in a negative light and he tried to play the ‘I’m-really-not-that-bad-in-comparison’-card.

“Just let me make one thing clear: I might accept your help to figure out who is actually behind these killings but apart from that I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Lydia felt increasingly pleased with her comeback, she had been sincere and by the way he kept looking at her, he sensed that as well. It was like his efforts had the exact opposite effect on her. It was not that some of the things he said didn’t have some allure to them or rang true - it was mostly him believing that he could use this tactics on her.

“Hmm,” he said, “if that’s how you feel.”

The flashing light of a car pulling up on their driveway caught her attention and in a split second Peter was standing beside her. “Seems someone is awfully worried about you.”

“They do have good reason to be.”

“You just have to hope that when it comes after you, they are doing a better job than they are doing now,” he said swerving a bit too close to her.

“So is that a suggestion to not ban Aiden to the guest room tonight?” Lydia said grinning as she felt a tinge of excitement rushing over her. While she was convinced that his earlier come on had just been to flatter her, she bet it still rubbed him the wrong way. First the open rejection and then her basically flaunting the fact that Aiden was the one actual having her.

Instead of saying anything Peter suddenly seemed distracted by something else. “Interesting.”

The smile on his face gave her the feeling that whatever it was, it was not anything she would actually like. “What is it?”

“Seems Scott and Stiles are not the only ones coming to inquire after how you are doing.”

Lydia realised he would not be so pleased if whoever it was for some reason wasn’t a really good comeuppance for her attempts at teasing. Thinking about who the worst possible person to come by could be, seemed to lead to only one answer. “Deucalion.”

Peter nodded once and leaned down to whisper in her ear: “I always said you were incredibly smart.”

“You really didn’t kill him.”

It seemed kind of redundant to mention it but between him being so close and Deucalion looming around the house, it was like anxiety crept back over her.

“I surprise myself sometimes,” Peter replied. “Given that Derek and Scott wanted him alive for some inexplicable reason and that I’m trying to cut down on the whole killing thing, I figured I’d let him live.”

The whole statement was like he was daring her to suggest that this was not the right course. While Lydia would have prefered never to have to come across Deucalion again, she was not about to. At the same time, she wondered why the only werewolf with more bodies on his resume was the one Peter had decided to not kill.

“He’s not really here to talk, is he?”

“For his sake it would have been better to stay far away from Beacon Hills.” His hand went to her hip before he added: “Don’t worry, I won’t let him harm you.”

Lydia looked up at him, doing her best not let him irritate her. “I think between the twins and Scott I’m covered.”

“Have you ever considered that the twins might not be the most reliable line of defence against him? I doubt Scott can scare him out of town … Deucalion knows he has this no kill policy.”

“But he would take you seriously?” she somehow doubted that things would be that easy.

Clearly, Peter had his own reason apart from not wanting to alienate Scott or Derek even further. The former leader of the alpha pack was certainly not giving up that easily. Him coming back to town already showed that he wasn’t that worried about crossing paths with Peter. Whatever he wanted, he didn’t even shy away from showing up with Scott and the Twins around.

“Let’s find out,” Peter suggested.

Instead of drawing her closer, Lydia realised that he was turning her back towards the door of her room. She knew she could handle the situation, Lydia just preferred to not have to. It was strange that dealing with Peter was the least annoying thing to come out of this. When she unlocked the door, his hand still on the small of her back, she paused a moment.

“You know, we could also just leave,” he suddenly suggested.

“I thought you were curious about what he wanted?”, Lydia turned to look at him.

Smiling he replied: “I am, I just thought I’d offer.”

“How nice of you,” Lydia said her voice dripping with sarcasm.

As she opened the door and stepped into the corridor, she wondered if he only offered knowing she would say no or if he hoped she might say yes. While she was not crazy enough to do that, it made sense if they wanted to work together. Here they both had to work around the overprotectiveness of her friends.

Peter stayed back, as she descended down the stairs.


	14. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia goes downstairs to face a rather awkward situation where she meets Deucalion, Scott and Stiles, with the Twins of course being present, too. As if that is not awkward enough Peter makes his presence known as well ...
> 
> _“I think we made it quite clear on what we think of your methods,” Scott stated flatly._  
>  _Deucalion just smiled. “You did let me kill Jennifer - trust me at one point, you will stand aside. I can wait.” As if to make a point he leaned back and crossed his arms. It occurred to her that maybe killing her was not really what he was after. All that talk about what her powers could do, going up against everyone in the room, seemed like a bad strategy. He was clearly trying to plant distrust among them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My awesome beta [AWaywardHunter](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4392546/) proofed this chapter really fast, so here it is.
> 
> Many thanks to [calrissian18](http://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18) because she helps me so much with the Stiles' dialogue.
> 
> [Chapter 13 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-13-homeinvasion)

“Hey Lydia,” Stiles greeted her from the third step of the stairs. “Just coming to get you.”

Taking a few more steps down the stairs, she made Stiles back up. He looked really nervous and tense, Lydia could not help but think if he knew who was right behind her, he would probably knock out the vase next to him flailing around violently. As he looked into the living room, she saw Deucalion standing in a corner, his pale blue eyes glaring at her darkly. The twins looked at him uneasily and Scott seemed ready for a fight.

“This has got to be awkward for you, Lydia, having played tonsil hockey with every guy in the room. Well, myself and of course Ethan excepted.” Ethan’s face flushed an odd purple colour. Stiles blinked and clapped his hands together. “Well, it looks like I’m the only one in attendance at Lydia’s Lip-Lockless party.”

Everyone seemed to look at her somewhat strangely, except Ethan who looked at the floor. “Actually, I kissed you when you had that panic attack, so get over yourself.”

The judgmental look on Scott’s face annoyed her the most. It was like suddenly the twins looked a bit surprised at her as well. Deucalion’s stare she rather avoided, given that he was actually the only one she had not kissed, at least not on the lips. Unlike Stiles she had better social skills than to bring that up. “Anyone else feeling like commenting on my active sex life?”

There was as silence that was then broken by a low growl, before Deucalion took a step forward. Despite the room being filled with people she had either snogged or slept with, she held her head up high. If he had something to say, he could say it to her face. “It’s a simple but rather clever way to ensure loyalties, well as long as you don’t come across a werewolf who does not feel like sharing so generously.” His tone and look made her uncomfortable, there were few people who actually could make her feel bad for enjoying herself. Then he turned his head to look away towards Scott. “Although I would have thought you had better taste, Scott.”

“In my defence, it was before my first full moon, I was under the influence ...” Scott looked slightly guilty at Stiles before he stopped as he heard Peter coming down the stairs.

“So what you’re trying to say is that - I made you do it,” he scoffed and clearly basked in everyone’s appalled or downright loathing gazes. “Scott clearly has no taste at all, he is pining after a werewolf hunter with psychotic tendencies.”

That got Peter a glare from Scott, but Stiles was faster. “What is this creep doing here again?” He pointed, agitated, in Peter’s direction and obviously could not decide whom to look at more accusingly. In the meantime Aiden had unzipped his top but Scott signalled him to remain calm as he turned towards Peter: “Yes, what are you doing here?”

Ethan touched his brother’s shoulder as if to say that maybe talking should be the first option.

“Helping out Lydia with her dreams, just as I promised.”

Peter smiled at her and she bet he made it intentionally sound as if they had some ongoing deal with each other. Lydia thought about a way to clarify it when Peter came two steps further down and caused Aiden to advance. Then Ethan stopped him as Peter leaned relaxed on the corner piece of the railing. She knew from there he finally had Deucalion in his view and while the former alpha seemed more tense he also had moved slightly back.

Even though Deucalion was clearly nervous about having to face someone with his powers, he was not yet ready to let go. The room was filled with tension, but it was clear that at least three of the wolves preferred for this to be solved without a fight. “As I told you outside, you don’t need to protect her. It’s more the other way around.”

“Well, I don’t need protection, she can jump me any time,” Stiles declared before looks from all the werewolves got him to shut up.

“What are talking about, she’s hardly a danger to anyone,” Aiden declared.

Lydia saw a grin rushing over Peter’s face as Aiden made his comment and she wondered what he and Deucalion thought they knew about her. It made her think about what happened if she really was dangerous. That maybe by accepting help with her abilities she might indeed become as dangerous to her friends.

“As if she had any interest in you,” Deucalion gave Stiles a dismissive look. “Given that she can’t use you. You have no powers, you are completely insignificant,” he then went on. “Do any of you even know what she is?”

Lydia was not that surprised that he knew, something about the way he spoke about her, seemed to come from a place of utter confidence. What was it that Jennifer has said about her? ‘Look the innocent flower but be the serpent under it?’ While Stiles knew about her being a banshee that meant almost nothing, since nobody had an idea what she was. Jennifer seemed to have known, maybe the other emissaries knew, too. Peter, as well as Deucalion, certainly had an idea about her powers. The question now was how much revealing that and what she could do might have an impact on the people that were her friends.

The room was tense but oddly everyone seemed to be curious about what Deucalion had to say, even Peter was, though he certainly knew the answer. Maybe he just wanted to hear if Deucalion had it right. His gaze was certainly more focused on the corner with Deucalion and the Twins, while Scott was in his wider field of vision and she and Stiles just at the edges.

While Stiles was certainly wishing someone would get rid of Peter once and for all, he was no threat in this situation. He was agitated and nervous and whenever she turned to look at him, he was staring at the floor. So she stopped doing it all together, to pay more attention to Peter and the other three werewolves. Scott’s actions were pretty clear; he would try not to let things escalate and he certainly wasn’t going to let anyone kill her. What worried her was how the twins might react to Deucalion’s threats. They seemed to not believe him but Aiden’s last comment made her wonder what would change when it turned out their former pack leader was right about her.

“She’s a banshee,” he said as if that was going to mean anything to anyone. “If you think finding dead bodies is the only thing she can do, you’ll be surprised. As long as those two are working together all your powers are at risk. You think he’ll stop now?”

Peter briefly met her gaze, smiling as Deucalion insinuated that he was after everyone’s powers. He clearly was on a roll and it seemed everyone was interested in what he had to say.

“He will reduce you two to being omegas once again and there is just one way to stop him from doing it.”

His words had an obvious effect on the twins, who looked really upset from her to Peter, only to briefly swerve to Deucalion. She had to wonder if that really was Peter’s plan, revoking everyone’s alpha status by draining their powers. The others at least seemed to consider that possibility.

“What would that be?” Scott asked in a tone that suggested he knew the answer already.

“Obviously, you let me kill her,” Deucalion said in the most casual tone.

Lydia found herself taking a step back. At least it was comforting to see that Aiden finally stopped glaring in Peter’s direction and was now facing Deucalion. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I think we made it quite clear on what we think of your methods,” Scott stated flatly.

Deucalion just smiled. “You did let me kill Jennifer - trust me at one point, you will stand aside. I can wait.” As if to make a point he leaned back and crossed his arms. It occurred to her that maybe killing her was not really what he was after. All that talk about what her powers could do, going up against everyone in the room, seemed like a bad strategy. He was clearly trying to plant distrust among them.

“You know, if you guys just want to talk about me as if I am not in the room, why don’t you take it elsewhere,” she said realising that she wanted Deucalion gone. Even more so she wanted all the boys to just leave her alone for a while. Then again she knew just to be safe, it was probably good to have at least Aiden around. That sort of bothered her, she did not want to have to rely on someone looking out for her all the time.

“Yeah, why don’t all the homicidal werewolves leave?” Stiles said glaring at Deucalion until he realised that he was getting glared back on.

To her surprise Scott seemed to agree with that, only he was not looking at Deucalion. “I think that would be a good thing.”

Peter smiled back at Scott before looking at her. “I’ll leave when she asks me to.”

Lydia realised that he would be back, even if she told him to leave now. Which oddly enough she did not want to do. Deucalion had raised so many questions and even though Peter was unlikely to give her completely honest answers she needed to learn as much as she could.

“Then ask him,” Ethan said interrupting her thoughts.

Everyone was looking at her, Deucalion with a particularly dark smirk but she could tell the others expected her to tell Peter to get lost already. It would have been easy enough to do but she wanted to say something that did not necessarily would disappoint her friends but also would not cause Peter to leave if he was indeed serious. Before she could think of an answer, Peter had a different suggestion to make. “Or we could do something productive and talk about how to stop these killings…”

Aiden turned again but not without letting Deucalion out of his sight either. “Or we could kill you.” He gave her a side glance and Lydia got the feeling he knew she had no intentions to actually send Peter away.

“I like the sound of that,” Deucalion gave him an approving nod.

Scott took another step forward. “Nobody is killing anyone.”

Lydia noticed that during the whole exchange Peter remained completely relaxed, it was almost as if he either did not care, knew it was unlikely a fight would actually happen or simply was overconfident in his ability to come out the winner.

“You don’t get to order us around,” Ethan said even thought he seemed to agree on not solving this with fighting.

“Come on, Scott, why not let them go all Thunderdome on each other? I can’t see cutting down the murderous werewolf population of Beacon Hills as being an inconvenient thing for anyone.” Lydia saw Stiles looking at both Deucalion and especially Peter almost as if he expected them to say something. Which was of course not going to happen. Neither of them could care less about Stiles’ opinion on the matter. They clearly owned their acts. Encouraged by the lack of protest he continued. “And if the Wonder Twins and Mr. Destroyer of Worlds over there do manage to actually, effectively kill an already technically-dead dude, then Lydia’s in the clear and Old Blue Eyes no longer has a reason to lobby for her head on a platter. It’s a win-win?”

Deucalion shrugged. “She’d still be dangerous, she’s a banshee. She could probably bring him back. Again,” he smiled almost as if he was glad that possibility existed.

“That is true.” Peter said looking at her fondly. “Hmm, Lydia still feel safe with your two trusted bodyguards?”

“We would make sure that she won’t do that,” Aiden said overconfidently.

Lydia shook her head. She did not need to see Peter’s amusement about that statement to know how that Aiden was missing the problem. Then again she never really had related exactly what had been going on in her mind. Given how everyone was already gunning for Peter now, she certainly was not going to do that now.

“I’m getting slightly fed up with all this talk about killing. Especially given that for some reason he”, was was pointing at Deucalion, “is the one talking about killing me and all you two and you,” she said turning around to glare at Stiles, “can do is talk about killing him.”

“That is a good point,” Peter sounded pretty pleased with the situation. “After all - I’m here to help.”

Stiles scoffed. “Wasn’t your plan forcing her to participate in your sick little sex ritual? Because somehow I don’t think ‘help’ is the word you were looking for.”

Bringing that up again caused everyone to be silent for a moment, even Deucalion seemed as if he prefered this not being brought up. After all he was the real victim and even though she knew that, Lydia could not help but think that she was rather glad that he was far less dangerous now. She was not sure how she felt about Peter having his strength now but at least he was not running around gloating about killing his niece and advocating for everyone else to follow his example.

“Stiles is right. You don't get a pass after raping Lydia. We don't care what you have to say.”

Scott spelling it out so directly did make her feel rather uncomfortable. Especially since looking at Peter didn’t make her feel nearly as uncomfortable as looking at Scott. Not to mention the way he had been looking at her.

“It must be rather easy living in your world, Scott, where everything is so black and white. Luckily for this town, Lydia is handling this a lot more maturely than any of you. She is putting the life of the victims to come ahead of her own discomfort. Lives that are in danger because of your actions - not mine.”

That latest comment certainly struck a chord with Scott. His fingernails briefly changed into claws before he managed to get a grip on himself. “We can stop whatever it is, without your help. In fact, if we get proof it is you, I’ll help the others sending you back to the grave.”

It was like his guilt clouded his judgement. Maybe that was really what this was about, knowing that Peter would certainly point out that it was their ritual that did attract whatever to Beacon Hills. Even more so, if it was Peter doing those killings, then it was not the ritual that was the cause of all this death.

“That’s the attitude, Scott,” Deucalion said sounding incredibly pleased. “I am sure you’ll find something to confirm your suspicions.”

“I hate to disappoint, but no they won’t, because I’m not in the habit to randomly run around tearing people to bits,” Peter said with feigned sadness.

Lydia was really getting tired of this pointless hostility. “If you aren’t willing to talk about anything but killing, then why don’t you go and take your unproductive attitudes elsewhere. Starting with him,” she said staring at Deucalion. “I can’t recall inviting him into my home, either. Given that he wants to kill me, I wonder why throwing out Peter is your priority?”

“That is a good question,” Peter agreed.

“Here’s a radical idea, how about Scott kicks out psycho-wolf over there while they,” Stiles nodded over to the twins, “go all Voltron-wolf on our least favourite sociopath?”

Shaking her head knowing what Stiles would suggest, she realised she needed to get everyone out of here. The atmosphere was so toxic and testosterone ridden that all she wanted was some time alone to take a breath of fresh air. “You know Stiles, as someone who has tried all evening to get a lynch mob started, I would be careful to throw around the sociopath card.”

Unsure why she was suddenly fighting with Stiles, she was nonetheless unable to stop it. Especially, since him shrugging his shoulder and laying it back on her got her furious. "I'm just trying to fit in with the cross-section you've assembled here, Lydia."

"Trust me, Stiles, it might look that way, but I don't find homicidal tendencies attractive at all,” she shot back and turned to look at the room, where Scott sighed busy thinking on what to do judging by that expression on his face. The twins were somewhat taken by the discussion but Deucalion and Peter clearly had a great time. Lydia knew she should let it go but then she heard Stiles mutter under his breath. "Your dating history would beg to differ."

That was just something she could not take. While she knew it looked that way, she also had just said that it certainly was not that what she found attractive. In fact it was the one thing that troubled her most and she just found herself snapping around. “Leave, now.”

Then she turned to the living room and pointed at Deucalion and then at Scott. “You leave - you leave.” When she turned to the stairs and seeing Peter’s smug smile, she added “You get out of my sight as well.”

Scott was clearly angry at her and when she saw the kicked puppy look on Stiles’ face she knew why but at the moment she was way too upset with him to undo some of the damage. Besides if anything she did deserve an apology. If she was honest, the only reason she had not asked the twins to leave was because Deucalion scared her and she would not put it past him to go after her if she was alone.

“As you wish”, Peter said and went back up the stairs.

“Hey where do you think you are going?” Aiden yelled at him.

“Obviously, not leaving by the front door,” Peter said as he disappeared upstairs.

Stiles had walked away from her while Scott began urging Deucalion to leave. He was giving her a final look that made it clear he would get her eventually. But her worry was with Aiden still wanting to start something.

“Just let it go, Aiden,” Lydia said somewhat hopeful that he would not escalate the situation. “Peter clearly isn’t the one having a problem following my wishes.”

“Fine - we’re leaving,” Scott said opening the door signalling Deucalion to leave. The last one to leave was Stiles who clearly thought about something to say but then decided against it. Somehow Lydia knew it was a bad sign.

“That was ugly,” Ethan said after a few moments. “Not that I blame you, Stiles sure doesn’t know when to shut up.”

Lydia hoped for Ethan’s sake that their menage-a-trois would not go further than this room but given that too many people knew now, she understood the worried expression on his face. Aiden was still not saying anything, instead he gave her a distrustful look.

“I think maybe we should all calm down and get some sleep. Then tomorrow maybe we can talk about what to do.”

It just occurred to her that as long as Deucalion was out there, he was a threat for her. Somehow she could not help but wonder if that was why Peter had not killed him. Then again it made no sense he had to know that Aiden would not let him harm her. Especially after him standing up for her before and given that he was not quite the same threat he used to be. Unless Peter was confident that Deucalion could somehow turn the twins against her.

Lydia looked up as Aiden came closer. “Mind if I check if your pal is really gone?”

“Go ahead,” she said with a shrug.

Somehow Lydia was sure that Peter had left, just as she was sure she would hear from him again quite soon. Maybe looking through the house would help to get some excess energy out of Aiden’s system. After he sprinted upstairs, she was left alone with Ethan and she decided to head down into the kitchen. Her appetite was gone but she already felt that she would need to eat something soon if she did not want her stomach to revolt.

“I wonder how he does it,” Ethan suddenly said as he appeared in the door frame.

“Does what?” Lydia said not even sure whom he was referring to.

“Masking his scent like that - we should’ve noticed him much sooner but even as he was standing there, as far as my sense of smell was concerned, he might have been an illusion.”

She shrugged and gathered supplies to make herself a sandwich. “Well, instead of threatening him - you might consider asking him about it, the next time you run into each other.”

“You seriously want us to listen to him?” Ethan asked her in genuine surprise.

It was almost like she was talking to a wall whenever she had mentioned something in relation to Peter. “Yes, of course. I’m not saying take his word as gospel - but beneath the half-truth he might actually have useful information.”

“Is that all?” Ethan said as he came a bit closer.

Continuing to prepare her evening snack, she considered her reply. “If he can help me get a handle on my abilities, then I’m going to let him teach me.”

“Aiden won’t like that, I’m not sure I like it.”

Aiden not liking it was probably the greatest understatement she had ever heard. The whole idea that they did not like it made her angry. She was the one caught in the middle of this, first and foremost it was her problem. “Do you think I like it? That I want to dream about body parts being littered across graveyards? To be haunted in my dreams? I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Ethan seemed a bit taken back by her yelling and then said snidely: “As I understand it, he’s responsible for all of that.”

“I know,” Lydia admitted, the frustration shining through in her voice. It was hard enough without being reminded of that detail. Her dealings with Peter were like getting saved from drowning by the person that pushed you into the lake. “It’s not just that he owes me or is willing to help me, Peter seems to be the only one who can.”

Ethan gave her a skeptical look and she could tell he was thinking about what Deucalion had said. Lydia couldn’t even blame him. If Peter had set his mind to steal their powers, he might actually be able to pull it off. Contrary to what Deucalion said, he wouldn’t necessarily need her help.

“You weren’t surprised about the banshee thing - when Deucalion mentioned it.”

“No, Miss Blake told me, right before she tried to strangle me,” Lydia said. “Not that it told me much, it’s not like there’s anything written down about banshees anywhere that actually fits what I can do.”

“But why keep it a secret? You could have told us,” he wondered.

“The way Jennifer said it .. I don’t know, I got the feeling it was better if I didn’t tell anyone else until I found out more.” Lydia had confided in Stiles but he understood that she didn’t want anyone to know until she knew more. She supposed now it would make its way to Deaton. Maybe she should have asked him about it today but either way Lydia felt he might not have said much except some cryptic stuff.

She finished making her two sandwiches and then put everything else back into the fridge. “You know I’m glad you are looking out for me - but I do hope we find a solution that doesn’t involve you having to hang around me 24/7.”

“Why? Can’t wait to get rid of us?” Aiden said accusingly from the door.

Lydia was not sure why but he was even more on the edge after that ugly scene in the living room. It shouldn’t surprise her that he was loaded given what she had told him before that. Right now she just wanted to have a good night’s rest without anyone around or with dreams about torn up body parts.

“Of course I don’t want to get rid of you, but I need some space and I can’t expect you to put your life on hold to look after me indefinitely,” she tried to explain.

The worst thing about all this that she felt so unhinged and aggressive for no specific reason. That was not like her at all. Maybe the others were right and she did need to come to terms with what happened but it just was not the worst thing that had ever happened to her. In the last year the only thing that had kept bothering her was not knowing what she was and having so little control over what her dreams did to her. Even if Peter was the worst person to give those answers to her, he was also the only one. He owed her and for some reason Lydia felt that he knew that.

She had decided a long time ago that she did not want to get back at him, she was happy just getting him out of her head. Maybe the worst thing he did was actually make her feel like there was someone who might appreciate her for being eccentric and smart only to reveal it was all a lie. Peter had also planted the idea in her head that what she had with Jackson had been something special. Then she allowed that jerk to dump her twice, the second time not even bothering to text her.

“Well, he’s gone for now. Not sure how he got in but he apparently left through your window - I closed it.”

While Aiden replied with a rather flat tone, she still sensed his latent aggression underneath. Ethan seemed more sympathetic to how difficult this was for her but even he did seem to prefer to stay out of this.

“I think he’d already gotten what he wanted - his focus is now on stopping these killings before they get even more attention. Allison’s dad said it, too - if that keeps going on, the wrong people will eventually notice.”

Instead of an answer Aiden just walked out of the kitchen. She then heard the tv being turned on. Ethan sighed and left as well. So she gathered her sandwiches and passed quickly through the living room, where both twins sat on the couch. Aiden zapped through the program busy ignoring her, while Ethan was busy texting. Probably Danny, Lydia thought.

Back in her room she put the sandwiches next to her laptop and decided to let a few music videos run, just to distract herself from what was going on. Two videos in she relocated to her bed and wrapped herself into her blanket. It seemed cold and empty to her but at the same time having Aiden with her was not particularly appealing. She could not tell what happened but she had the feeling she’d botched their already undefined relationship a great deal. All her relationships were strained at the moment and while some of the blame was on her, she could not help but feel that Peter was the cause of all that trouble.

It was in the middle of a song when some tones that did not fit got her to sit up. Trying to figure out where it came from she looked around in her room and then saw the display of her cell phone was lit. She threw back her cover and went over to the desk when she saw that it said Peter was calling. It shouldn’t surprise her that he had put his number into her phone.

“Disappointed I left?” he teased her.

“Not at all,” she said flatly. “I asked you to leave, didn’t I?”

“You told me to get out of your sight, that might pass for - Wait upstairs,” his voiced sounded terribly amused. Lydia took a sharp breath. She had not even thought about what she had told him or how it could be interpreted. Now, Aiden’s reaction made a lot more sense. “I thought since your boy toys are already so upset, I’d let them calm down a bit.”

“How generous, given that all my friends are upset with me - because of you.”

There was a moment of silence, then he said. “Because you are not nearly as upset with me as they are.” There was more to it but it was not far from the truth. Lydia wished that was not the case. “You know how I happened to get the drop on Deucalion?”

“No, and I don’t want to know.”

“Maybe you should care - given that he contacted me, promised to help me getting back to power if I helped him to get to Scott.”

“I see you just took his powers in all our best interests,” Lydia replied, her voice full of sarcasm. “You always say I’m so smart but then you treat me like I’m dumb enough to fall for that.”

“True, I used you because I wanted his power and that was the only way I could get it. I could just have killed him or warned the others, not that they’d have listened.”

She hadn’t expected him to spell it out so clearly. Although of course he was not yet done. “You think that your two protectors are helping you out of pure selflessness? Everyone is selfish, I didn’t think I needed to spell that out for you.” His tone sounded both belittling and disappointed before lightening up somewhat as he went on. “But I guess you just wanted to hear me admit as much.”

“Then why make excuses?” Lydia asked feeling her throat tighten.

“Hmm, I wasn’t trying to make excuses, I just like to point out that not every selfish thing I do is only beneficial to me.”

There was this cold shiver running down her spine. Of course he had to bring that up again. “Beneficial? Given all the nightmares I had, the fact that my friends are freaking out on me, that a crazy, power-hungry werewolf is out there wanting to tear my throat out, I don’t think me coming a couple of times merits the word beneficial.”

“I was thinking more about all the people who won’t get killed when we stop these senseless killings. But I would agree, I owe you a lot more benefits,” he paused a moment. “Unlike your two bodyguards, I can give them to you and I’m not just referring to the vastly superior sex we could have.”

Lydia could not help but being pissed at him for being both right and so annoying. Somehow she felt like pointing out that most of the time he just was being selfish but she dreaded him pointing out more instances that might have accidentally also have benefited someone. There was really no point in having that argument. Ignoring him bringing up the sex part again, she brought up another question.

“How come he knew what I was?” Lydia was sure Peter had not told him but Deucalion knowing was disconcerting.

“I’m not the only werewolf with an interest in what else is out there - maybe the ritual made him realise that or he asked someone. I certainly did not tell him.”

It seemed to her that there was something about this whole Banshee deal he was holding out on. No matter how much she feared the reply, Lydia needed to known. “Is he right, though? Am I dangerous?”

“Very dangerous - which is why I would have preferred to keep it a secret. If word gets out,” Peter paused for dramatic effect as if he didn’t already sounded ominous enough, “you might be in even more danger.”

“Why is that?” Lydia felt her voice slightly tremble, given that Peter sounded so serious about it.

“The reason banshees are so rare has something to do with not only humans hunting them down. There are those who fear your powers, those who want them for themselves. Which is another reason you might want my help.”

“Because I can be sure that you’re not after my powers as well,” Lydia said and sat down on her bed.

There was a pause and she could hear the amusement that her words apparently caused. “Of course, I’m after your powers - but unlike Deucalion I don’t believe I need to combine all the power in myself. Believe me, I’d much rather have you around.”

Lydia believed him for some weird reason. If he was after her powers, he would never have returned her, nobody would have been able to find her in that cabin. While both Peter and Deucalion had killed, there was a difference in their motivation. Lydia didn’t trust Peter all the way, but she was convinced that he would put an end to whatever was in that crypt.

“And Lydia - make sure you are not alone. Deucalion is after you and we both know he is not the only one.”

“So you actually want the twins to stick around?” she said not quite believing it.

“Ideally, I want them gone - so I can look out for you,” Peter replied. “But given that’s obviously not going to happen, I’d rather know you’re protected - as long as you feel safe with them.”

“They’re not going to listen to Deucalion - not after finding out he had killed Ennis.”

The noise at the other end of the line told her that Peter was doubting that. “In case you haven’t noticed - those two boys aren’t the brightest. Fear and anger can cloud anyone’s judgement. What I smelled from them during Deucalion’s little talk wasn’t just anger.”

“Considering that they’ve never harmed me I’m inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt.”

“Of course - just don’t forget to avoid that dream. Since you did it last night, it might seek you out tonight.”

“Don’t worry I’ll do my best to stay away from that thing.”

Lydia was surprised when he said goodnight. After she did the same and they ended the call, she stared at the entry till the display went dark again. If there was anything she could call him - although she was curious to see when he would call back. For now she needed to go downstairs and make it clear to Aiden that she had definitely meant to sent Peter away. That the phrase she had used was not some hidden invitation as he had pointed out to her. Maybe that would calm him down a bit. She was not sure if she felt like making up or if that was a wise idea. This night would probably end like the last and given that it was better if she slept alone.

Going down the stairs in her socks she heard a fast paced car chase with gunfire playing overly loud on the tv. It was some stupid action film and just as she was halfway down, she heard Ethan say to Aiden: “At least you got your wish: I’m sure he got a good whiff of both our scents on her.”

She stopped, hardly able to believe what she had heard. “But he didn’t look upset.”

“He’s better at hiding it, but I bet he was pissed.”

Then Ethan looked up and seconds later Aiden did the same. They probably could gather from the look on her face that Peter wasn’t the only one who was pissed.

“Really?” she asked. “I kind of expected that from Peter - not from you.”

Then she stormed up the stairs as fast as her socks would let her. So much for pack mentality and giving comfort, she thought. It was nothing but them marking territory and Lydia hoped they had the good sense to stay out of her sight for the rest of the night, as she loudly slammed and then locked her door.


	15. Of Crypts and Crystals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting hurt badly again in a dream, Lydia goes to the hospital and to check out a few other things - like going to Yoon to get the crystal that is supposed to protect her.
> 
>   _As so often she had no idea what he was referring to, but Lydia did not want to get into details about it anyway. If the others found out about Yoon and Peter knowing each other, she might get into trouble and Lydia wanted to keep her out of the ongoing feud. “I looked something up, I hope it’ll work.”_
> 
> _“What if it doesn’t?” Aiden asked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like thank my awesome beta [AWaywardHunter](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4392546/) for doing such an amazing job.
> 
> [Chapter 14 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-14-awkward)

Walking over the cold ground, Lydia’s bare feet sunk into the muddy ground. Her nightgown was not remotely warm enough and sweat was running over her body that made it cling to her body at the most unfortunate parts. Worse, it was windy and the air was moist, clouds passed over the moon and she knew it was about to rain. At least no one was around. However, something seemed to watch her from the darkness.

Lydia was not even sure where she was at. There were ruins, trees and a set of huge stones. It did not seem like it belonged to the vicinity of Beacon Hills. It was not like she had the chance to appreciate her surroundings given that it was too dark to make out more than the silhouettes. Then there was that sound, almost like a werewolf growling but somewhat more unnatural.

Even without seeing anything it was obvious that whatever was making those sounds was coming closer. She felt grass under her feet when she headed over to the ruins to get some form of cover. She could hear something scraping over the large fallen stones. When she looked around she could not make anything out.

She heard squashing sounds in the mud and by the time she reached one of the buildings, the snarling sound was dangerously close. Only when she pressed herself against the crumbling wall and looked around there was nothing there, not even the shadow of a movement. Just darkened shapes created by the light of the growing moon.

It slowly occurred to her that she was dreaming and this was why nothing seemed to feel real, except the fear. It did not matter how unreal the scenario was, her heart was still beating as if it wanted to jump out of her chest. Lydia knew she needed more light if she wanted to make sense of this, it was not like was in that scary crypt dream.

Then the drops started falling, trying to stay calm she listened into the semi-dark around her when another growl went through the darkness. She thought about her flashlight but could not make it appear, with the rain she doubted she was able to think up torches. Then it hit her: maybe lightning would work.

She focused on the air around her, imagining the rain becoming stronger, the wind blowing harder until she heard the faint rumble of thunder. The storm was coming and within two more very close sounding growls the first lightning appeared. At this moment, she saw them. She had no idea what they were but they were the single most terrifying things she ever saw.

Tracking backwards hands and back against the wall, she finally felt an opening. Almost without thinking Lydia slid into what was left of the doorframe.

When she noticed what it actually was, it was already too late. In the dark and without being able to see, she missed the first step and and tumbled down into the darkness. Stony steps jabbed into her body. A sharp pain went through her wrist and it felt like she had broken something. When her fall ended, she was in an all too familiar place: the moldy, wet crypt and she wasn’t alone. It came closer and Lydia panicked.

A loud scream resonated through the house and Lydia felt a breath of relief as soon as it ended. If the twins had not been awake already, they had to be now. Sitting up properly the bumps and bruises she had gotten in her dream felt terrifyingly real. This time it was her left wrist that hurt the most, but it felt not as badly injured as in her dream.

“Lydia, are you alright?” Aiden asked through the door.

“Yes, just another nightmare …,” she said and flinched as she attempted to use her left hand to throw back her cover.

He obviously heard it. “You don’t sound okay.”

“Mind getting me one of those ice-pads from the fridge?”

After he agreed she made her way out of the bed and unlocked the door. Feeling her body hurt in several different parts, she remembered Peter’s warning from last night. If only she had known that the thing was creative enough to completely change the dream and lure her into its grasp by having these grotesque creatures scare her into that opening. At least that’s what she thought had happened.

It was still dark outside, her clock said it was shortly past 6 am. She was about to reach for her robe when Aiden had hurried back with the pack. “Do you have a headache?”

“No, I think I’ve sprained my wrist.”

“Your wrist? How did that happened?” Again Aiden sounded overly worried.

“I fell down the stairs,” she replied truthfully and when she saw the disbelief on his face she explained it was the thing from the dream and how it had tricked her.

“This is really serious,” he said and looked again at her other wrist. “It really happened in your dream?”

That was of course the problem, they had not believed her. She wondered how much of what she had told they, including Allison, Stiles and the others had brushed off thinking that she was under some form of mind-control or whatever they imagined.

“Yes, I told you it wasn’t Peter.”

At least his genuine concern made her sound less aggressive but Lydia felt that Aiden was not yet ready to accept that Peter was not behind her dream problems. Technically he was since without him attacking her over a year ago her banshee powers might not have come to the surface. Finally, taking her robe Lydia tried to slip her left arm into it when a sting went through her wrist.

Naturally, Aiden noticed. “Not trying to sound too overprotective but maybe you should have that checked out?”

Lydia couldn’t help but think that this was a good idea. They agreed that they would eat something and then drive her to the hospital. Getting dressed took her a bit longer but she refused to get help. She could do most of it with one hand, telling herself the pain was not that bad. It could have been worse. Peter had been right that the thing from the crypt was coming for her.

Lydia hoped the hospital visit would go fast, so she would not have to wait too long since she was keener than ever to ask Yoon about the crystal. If she was honest she was itching to call or at least text Peter and tell him about that dream.

Part of her wondered that if the thing could do that much damage already the crystal was going to be enough. Hopefully, Yoon would be able to answer that, too. She would just have to be patient.

Breakfast went over rather smoothly, she described her dream, the strange creatures in it and they immediately thought what she had been thinking: That those things sounded like they did the animal killings. For a change they did not argue much, they finally seemed to have realised that there was something else out there threatening her and it was doing far more harm than Peter.

On the way over to the hospital they suggested texting the others or calling them but Lydia did not really feel like talking to either Stiles, Scott or Allison. Allison had not called her either and she knew she had to be back by now, the cabin was not that far away. Lydia knew they would find out soon anyway given that they ran into Scott’s mother in the ER.

Suddenly, Lydia was alone with her, the twins muttering something about needing to make calls. They obviously they had not given up on their idea to have her talk about what had happened with nurse. Ethan never fell short of praising Melissa McCall.

“So how did this happen?” Melissa asked her as she positioned her arm for an x-ray.

“I fell down a couple of stairs,” Lydia repeated hearing from the tone alone what Scott’s mum thought.

“Scott told me what happened,” she said with motherly compassion. “You know, if you need to talk.”

“No, thanks there has been plenty of talk already,” Lydia sighed really not feeling up to talking to anyone. “Only nobody is listening.”

“I can listen,” Melissa replied. “Just a second.”

Leaving the room, the x-ray was taken and then they walked back to a room, where the doctor would join them after it would ready to be looked at. Lydia didn’t really want to discuss any of it but she figured maybe if she convinced her, she could convince Scott.

“Everyone acts as if this was the worst thing that Peter did to me, but it wasn’t. It was actually really good sex.” It made Lydia smile a bit to see the shocked looked on her face. 

“But you didn’t ask for it?” Melissa wanted to know.

Shaking her head Lydia sighed. “No, of course not, but I did not say No either.” A smile rushed over her face as she suddenly realised that they didn’t know about the drug.

“That doesn’t equal consent.”

Just in that moment the door opened and the doctor walked in with the x-ray. “Well, Miss Martin, let’s see what we got here.” He snapped it into place and hit the light switch. “That looks good, no sign of a fracture, so it probably is just sprained.”

Coming closer he took her wrist and touched it asking her what hurt and what did not. He commended her for cooling it and then told Scott’s mother to compress it with a bandage and keep cooling it every 3-4 hours. “Lastly, keep your wrist above your heart as often as you can. Otherwise, rest as much as you can. If the pain gets too much take an advil - but don’t overdo it.”

Then the doctor hurled out of the room. “He sure is in a hurry,” Lydia commented his speedy exit.

“Tell me about it, but Dr. McCoy is actually quite good,” Melissa said reassuringly.

After spraying something cold on her wrist, Scott’s mum began wrapping a bandage around her sprained wrist.

“I didn’t think it was broken but since Aiden is already so overly concerned I didn’t want to argue,” Lydia tried to explain.

“Where do the bruises on your other wrist come from? They don’t look like they come from the ‘fall’.”

“If you need to know, I got them from something attacking me in my dreams. That’s also where I fell.” Seeing Scott’s mother opening her mouth with that doubtful expression, she quickly added: “And before you say ‘that is impossible’, let me remind you - your son is a werewolf.”

Instead of a comment, Melissa sighed, then said: “That’s still hard to believe.”

“Yet, it is quite real,” Lydia told her.

Finishing with her wrist, she asked with a worried look. “How can you protect yourself from something like that?”

“Peter has an idea,” Lydia said noticing Melissa tensing when she mentioned Peter, “but of course I can’t tell anyone. He did help me a lot before they found out.”

“I don’t know what I should say to that except …” Melissa began sounding uncomfortable and worried like everyone else.

Nodding Lydia finished for her. “That I should not trust him, that I should stay away … except that nobody seems to care that he’s our best chance of stopping these killings.”

“You shouldn’t be alone with him,” Melissa told her.

Of course, Lydia knew she was right. There was also the fact that with everyone else around conversations went nowhere.

Lydia had to be alone with him and if she was honest that prospect didn’t scare her as much as it should. Even with everything Deucalion had said about him not going to stop, she could not help but think that it was unlikely that Peter would try the ritual on anyone else. It would mean open conflict with the others and Lydia had the distinct feeling that Peter was not going to risk that on top of everything else that was going on. As soon as they had stopped the killings, she would know better than to engage him alone. Although there was still the question of how she could deter him in the long run without having to rely on the constant presence of Aiden, her not quite boyfriend.

Thinking of him, she heard a knock on the door and the Twins strolled into the room.

“Well, we’re done here,” Scott’s mom said towards all three of them and more directed at her. “If you cool it regularly, there should be little to no swelling and you can probably do without pain -killers.”

Which Lydia knew, it was not her first sprained something and she had read all about it. Which is why she had asked for the cold pack in the first place. As usual she just agreed and asked the twins if they were ready to take her home. Since they didn’t have to wait too long it was barely 10 am and thus too early to head to the esoteric shop.

“Yeah about that,” Ethan began after Melissa had left them. “We spoke with Scott on the phone about what happened.”

“They are at the cemetery and they can’t find the crypt with the two grimreapers,” Aiden finished.

A year ago she would have told them that Scott probably needed his eyes examined. Now she knew there were other explanations outside the realm of the most obvious. Despite not being particularly keen on meeting Scott or Stiles so soon after last night’s scene, Lydia knew she needed to revisit the cemetery if they were to figure out why she had the vision.

“Then maybe we should head there.”

Doing her best to hide her lack of enthusiasm about it, she strode forward towards the parking lot. They followed her and began asking her about her wrist, she explained it really was just a mild sprain and that it would heal soon enough. For once she didn’t mind that they hovered about and opened doors. Even with the bruises on her other wrist she was quite capable of doing this by herself. On top of that, the compression bandage on the other did gave her a sense of stability that also made it easier to move light items.

On her way to the cemetery she kept thinking how fortunate it was that Mrs. Allen had taken Prada in. Since her birthday he had not gotten the attention he needed and Lydia had a feeling that would not change any time soon. Besides he rather liked playing with Happy, Mrs. Allen’s dachshund.

The twins parked her car behind Stiles’ Jeep. The two of them had waited at the gate after Ethan had texted them, that they were coming.

“How are you?” Stiles said but without really looking at her.

“Just a sprained wrist, nothing serious.”

Scott clearly had something on his mind and when she looked at him, he finally let it out. “Last time it just left one bruise per dream, didn’t it? This time it caused you to fall down a couple of stairs - if those injuries are real .. then ...”

“Then I could die - but it won’t come to that,” Lydia assured him.

“Yeah why not? Did you get your hands on some hypnocil or something?” Stiles asked curiously.

As so often she had no idea what he was referring to, but Lydia did not want to get into details about it anyway. If the others found out about Yoon and Peter knowing each other, she might get into trouble and Lydia wanted to keep her out of the ongoing feud. “I looked something up, I hope it’ll work.”

“What if it doesn’t?” Aiden asked.

Lydia shrugged and turned to look up at him: “Then it’s to plan B, which I will tell you about after plan A doesn’t work.” Aiden was certainly better off not knowing that she already knew one method to keep the thing from the crypt out of her dreams for good. The really terrible part was she wasn’t exactly opposed to the method. Since those grotesque creatures appeared in her dream, since she had tumbled into the crypt, she could not help thinking that sharing her bed with Peter was infinitely nicer than that. If she was absolutely honest with herself, it was not that bad on its own.

“Somehow I have the feeling, I’m not going to like Plan B,” Aiden grumbled back.

The others didn’t look happy about her being so evasive either and probably guessed that it involved Peter in some capacity. It made her think about what Stiles had said a few days ago, about there being no scenario in which she would ask Peter in her bedroom. That would be one, she told herself.

Sighing she replied. “I’m rooting for Plan A, but now let’s see about the crypt.”

They went to the spot where they had been told to wait after Scott’s father had arrived and talked to them. From there she traced her steps back to her little walk and found the crypt. She could understand why Stiles and Scott had not identified it. There were no grimreapers statues guarding it: instead two praying and crying angel statues were in their place. Moss and weed covered the rundown building, the name plate had fallen off and was no where to be seen but the doors, the doors were fake stone impressions. The layout was just the same, it was definitely the crypt. When she walked closer towards it, she felt something creep over her and in a flash she saw the change. The building became clearer, the statues morphed and yet the name plate remained gone. Breathing hard, she stepped back and snapped out of it, the moment she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“That’s it?” Scott asked her.

Lydia nodded, realising that Aiden was touching her shoulders but he was not hugging her like before. In fact, he had been somewhat more distant than before. “When I get close to it, I see it change.” She also did step away further from the building and Aiden. “It makes me feel weird just looking at it.”

Stiles on the other hand had approached it and was looking up at the folded hands of one of the angels. “I don’t know about the grimreapers but those are creepy …” For some reason seeing him so up and close with the angel turning grim reaper in her vision she felt like telling him to back off. Then Scott stepped up to and they examined the fake door.

“Why would someone build a crypt with a fake door? How did they bring the bodies in?”

“I think they sealed them in after everyone was interred,” Stiles touched the fake door. “It’s made of stone and cold enough to fend the freaking blob off. Stone cold, ha.”

Scott joined him and had to agree, it was way colder than the outside temperatures would allow. Almost as if something inside was cooling outside. “If I’m honest,” Scott said, “this place is making the hair on my neck stand up.”

They disappeared out of sight as they walked around the building. As they came back they confirmed that there was no other entrance, no sign of any name attached to the mausoleum.

“Maybe we should punch through the door and open it,” Ethan suggested.

“No,” Lydia said sharply and then with all eyes on her, she explained. “I don’t know what is up with that tomb but maybe there is a good reason why nobody can get inside.”

“You mean like something is sealed inside? But what if that thing is your dream demon?” Stiles said waving his arms around.

“What if we set something lose, that should never be freed?” Scott pointed out. “Lydia is right, we need to find out more about who was buried here and when.”

“Great, research session my place?” Stiles asked enthusiastically then realised that she and the twins had other plans. “Scott and me, my best buddy.” Putting his hand on Scott’s shoulders he tried so hard to act cool that Lydia felt almost sorry having no interest in participating. With all that had been said recently she felt more comfortable avoiding him. There was also the fact that she needed to talk to Yoon and get that crystal.

“I need to get something from a store downtown.”

There was nothing more to do here and with one last uneasy look back at the creepy crypt, Lydia and the others left the South Lane cemetery. Just as they were getting in their car, Scott got a text. “Ehm guys, it’s Allison. That corpse they found - it’s Jennifer.”

“Wasn’t that body half-buried?” Lydia asked recalling the twins mentioning something about it.

“Why would someone want to bury her in a shallow grave in the woods?” Ethan asked out loud what everyone was thinking.

“Maybe Deucalion went back to deny her a proper burial? He can be quite spiteful, if you get on his wrong side.” Aiden’s suggestion was certainly one explanation but just hiding her in the woods would have done enough damage and if he really wanted to keep her hidden, he probably could have dug a deeper grave.

“Well, we escorted him out of town, so we can’t ask him,” Scott said.

Ethan raised an eyebrow: “You did?”

“Given that he isn’t an alpha anymore, he was very easily persuaded by Scott,” Stiles revealed. “Was very entertaining to watch.”

“I told him, that if he showed up again, we would invite Allison’s father to the discussion.”

It was good to know that Scott basically had thrown him out of town and threatened to turn him over to the Argents if he did not comply. Yet, Lydia was not entirely convinced that he would heed that warning. The look on his face had told her that Deucalion had death on his mind and risking his own was certainly not far from it either. For now he was probably hoping that the poison he had planted was taking effect. It made her regret telling Aiden about enjoying the sex ritual, she hoped that somehow he would think it had just been anger speaking.

On the way back Ethan was driving and she happily sat in the back, texting with her phone. Lydia thought about sending one to Allison but she had no idea what to say. It would be better to wait or see if her friend had calmed down enough to have a rational conversation. In the end, she realised there was something she could text. “Sorry for hanging up - but I’m okay. I just don’t want to talk about it.”

Aiden turned to her a few minutes after they had left the cemetery. “So this store you’re going to - what are you hoping to gain there?”

“Spiritual advice,” she was intentionally being mysterious about it. “Look, I think there is Chinese restaurant around the corner, maybe you could get something while I talk things over with the owner?”

“One of us should come with you.”

Lydia had thought as much. “I’m sure a few hundred yards won’t be a problem if trouble shows up.”

The twins didn’t seem convinced but she hoped that she could keep them out of the book store, so she could ask Yoon about Peter as well. Whom she was texting while talking to the twins. “Hope that crystal works, I think last night I saw what was doing the actual animal killings, ended up in the crypt.”

Just as they stopped downtown, the reply came in. “Hope you didn’t get hurt - let’s talk about it later tonight.”

Not wanting to reply right away, she put her phone back into her handbag. The twins decided that Ethan would wait outside the door and Aiden was going to order some food to take back home. Back in the store, Yoon was already expecting her. Looking at her wrist, she took her hand.

“Did that happen in the dream?” Yoon sounded worried, almost like she hoped the answer would be “No”. Lydia described the dream to her and how she woke up as Yoon led her to the back of the store. In a small room that had a fridge, a kitchen sink, a water heater and coffeemaker as well as a couch and a small table, Yoon made her sit down. Using the opportunity to let her injured wrist rest on back of the couch, Lydia also saw the small package on the table.

“So Peter told you about what is going on with my dreams?” Lydia asked Yoon.

The other woman was opening the fridge, leaning down to look inside it and giving Lydia a good view of the tattoos on her back as she was wearing an outfit that left most of it free.

“I had to know, to find hopefully the right method to protect you.” Yoon turned and handed her a cold pack. “Believe me, if I had known more - I would not have given you the book without some form of protection,” Yoon sounded a bit guilty.

It was clear that neither Peter nor Yoon had expected her to make such strides. If he had read something in a book about banshees it probably hadn’t detailed how long it would take her to develop her abilities, just what they were. From the surprised tone Jennifer had used, banshees were not all that common.

“Nothing bad happened so far - although given the creatures I saw - I really don’t want to face those again.”

Yoon sat down at the edge of the table. “Why don’t you open it?”

With an encouraging smile at, Yoon’s eyes went to the black box on the table. Curious Lydia lifted the lid and was surprised to see a rather matted semi-transparent crystal. It was as long as her hand and slim enough so she could wrap it easily around the hexagonal body. The length was rather carefully cut with well defined edges, while both tips were more blunt almost sloppy looking.

“Take it.”

The moment her fingers touched the crystals she felt something; Lydia was not sure what to make of it. Yoon’s smile widened as her fingers tightened around it and she lifted it from the box.

“The crystal absorbs negative energies. Negative meaning those that harm your life force, either by draining or disrupting it.”

“This whole thing is really quite normal for you, isn’t it?” Lydia asked feeling quite overwhelmed.

All of it sounded so real and it even made sense, given that Peter had told her about it before. Yet, there was no scientific basis to this and she had to rely on them telling her the truth. While she could not deny that there was something supernatural, she wished she had a method to make sense of all this.

“I grew up with it all. If you take all the small glimpses and step back, it does make sense.” Yoon said sounding very sincere. “Most people never encounter the real thing, even those who do, only see a small portion of it. You’ve already seen so much more. The more you learn, the more you’ll be dragged into this world.”

That was not quite what Lydia had hoped for, she had counted on learning how to switch her powers on and off. She wanted to put a stop to these kinds of killings but she also wanted to be able to leave that world of death behind her. Almost as if realising her worries, Yoon went on to console her.

“It’s not a bad world. A dangerous one but it’s also full of wonderful things.”

“I haven’t seen too many wonderful things happening,” Lydia said not quite convinced by Yoon’s assurance. It wasn’t just the fact that she’d seen nothing but harm come to her friends, innocent people being murdered and then everything that had happened to her was the exact opposite of what she would call wonderful.

“I can’t deny that. But you also have to understand - Peter already dragged you into this world, that is something that can’t be undone. But you have a choice. You can either stand in a dark corner facing the wall trying to get on with your previous life or you can turn around and step into the light and have a look around.”

Looking at the crystal in her hand, Lydia had to say neither options were appealing to her. Although the thought that maybe not everything would always be about death was something she liked to believe. She was just not ready to. “What happens if I do try to just get on?”

“Deucalion knows what you are, he already told others - eventually word will spread there is a banshee in Beacon Hills. If you’re facing the wall - you won’t see them coming.”

It was clear that Deucalion was not the only one who had been talking. “Since when have you known?”

“About you being a banshee? Since last night.”

“Last night?” Lydia realised that Peter must have gone to Yoon right after he had left her place. She could not help but wonder what kind of relationship those two actually had. A better question was probably why this unreasonable feeling of jealousy rushed over her. Taking in a breath, she added: “It seems I’m not the only one he feels free to visit anytime.”

Yoon burst into laughter. “Well, lately I encourage it.”

Suddenly something clicked and it became so obvious to Lydia: the knowledge about the supernatural, the books, the handing out of advice and then the hint that she had an open ear policy anytime. “You’re a druid. You’re Peter’s emissary.”

“Wow, he was right - you are exceptionally smart.” Yoon seemed not at all mad about her discovery, she was more amused and impressed at the same time.

“But you have been here for a while …” she wondered out loud.

“I was sent here to have an eye on Deaton - I also trade in antique books pertaining to the supernatural. That’s how I met Peter,” Yoon explained. “After he became an alpha, he asked me if I wanted the job.”

Yoon suddenly sat up almost alarmed. “What is it?” Lydia asked.

“Someone came into the store,” Yoon said.

Moments later, she heard Ethan calling her name. She could not help but sigh. It really was impossible to have a conversation with her two overprotective bodyguards butting in every fifteen minutes. She wanted to yell back, when she felt the crystal in her hand pulsing. Looking at it she could not see anything different and then the feeling was gone again.

“Negative energies do not come just from the outside ..”

Even though she was not as cryptic as Deaton, she clearly had the druid thing down in her own much more helpful way. “Give me a minute,” Lydia eventually called out then turned back to. “So what do I do with it? Just hold onto it?”

“Yes, but be warned - the crystal can absorb a lot of negative energy but if there is too much energy it will burst. Have someone with you tonight, someone who can wake you immediately if that happens,” Yoon said quite sincerely. “By trying to see more, you will open a wider channel - that will make it even easier for it to attack you.

Somehow she had the feeling she was not going to like asking Aiden for that favour, not when things were so awkward at the moment. “Does this mean I won’t be attacked or that I just won’t be harmed in real life.”

“Good point,” Yoon nodded and was making serious face. “The dream will be just as threatening - but if it works, then injuries in the dream won’t happen in the real world. I’m just afraid you won’t know until you wake up.”

“If I wake up …”

Yoon touched her shoulder. “You will - your mind is strong, very focused - it might seem in a dream that you can’t control it, that you can just react. But you can, you just need to focus, then you can influence the dream. Just as you did with the lightning, don’t go against the dream - work with the scene.”

That was from the book, and Lydia had to admit it was working well for her. But whoever the woman who had written it was, she had not known about banshees or whatever it was that lurked in the dark of the crypt.

“I’ll figure it out.”

When she was just about to leave, Yoon gave Lydia her calling card. “If there is anything else, you can also call me.”

Since Yoon showed no sign of wanting to leave the back room, she said goodbye there and went back to meet Ethan in the store. She thought it was a bit strange but given the track record the twins had with Emissaries maybe it was not that surprising after all.

“Got everything you need?” he asked.

“I hope so - what is that look on your face?”

Lydia saw that he obviously had been sniffing around. She could bet he wanted to know whom she had been talking to. If he had not listened in anyway. That was the annoying thing with werewolves, they always heard things that they were not supposed to.

Ethan shrugged, then he put his hand on her back as they walked out of the door. “I don’t know - this place smells of cat.”


	16. Home alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mood is at an all time low at the Martin House: Aiden is channelling his aggression into a work out, when he senses something is wrong with Ethan who went to see Danny. Lydia tells Aiden to go, since she's anyway expecting Peter to come over, so they can talk more about her dream related problems.
> 
> _“Not very polite, are we?” Deucalion mocked her with a sardonic tone._  
>  _Deep down Lydia knew even a closed door would not stop him but the shock alone made it hard to think straight. When his hand stopped the door and he stepped forward she first took two steps back and then she ran._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like thank my awesome beta [AWaywardHunter](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4392546/) for doing such an amazing job.
> 
> Link to [summary of the previous chapter](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-15-ofcryptsandcrystals). There is also an [overview](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=character-per-chapter) over which characters appear (and will appear) in each chapter.

Back at her house, Lydia found herself dodging questions about the store and how she had found out about it. It was lucky that she’d discovered it on her own. Given that the werewolves would have spotted it if she was lying about that. It wasn’t that she wanted to be dishonest about it, but she’d seen what Aiden could do when he felt provoked and she wanted to protect Yoon from that.

She finished her dinner as soon as possible and picked the cool pack out of the fridge excusing herself to her room. After a mere ten minutes Aiden knocked at her door and then let himself in.

“You know, it’s not like I have any special expectations, but you could at least try not ignoring us every chance you get.”

On the one hand she did feel pretty bad for how things had gone, given they kept looking out for her as if that was the most natural thing to do. On the other hand she hated the fact that she had to rely on them and that once more it seemed she had to hide how she truly felt just to make them feel better. After spending all that time doing as much for Jackson she was just not willing to put up with it anymore.

“What do you want me to do? Come down and play scrabble? Watch a stupid movie?” Lydia sighed, feeling so tired from having this conversation. “I’m just not in the mood for company. I wish I was, but I just need some time to myself.”

Aiden nodded and it was not in agreement. Lydia could tell that he had expected this reply and now he was nodding along with his own pre-made resolution. It was like she was losing him and the worst part about it was that if not for Deucalion showing up, she probably would’ve had no problem telling him it wasn’t going to work out. Turning it around, if not for everything that had happened, he would not bugging her this much and she would not want to push him away.

“In case you feel like company, I’ll be downstairs. Ethan’s gone out to meet Danny - but he said he’ll be back in a couple of hours,” he informed her with a bitter tone.

Then he turned and walked out of her room shutting the door loudly. Lydia sprawled out on her bed, closing her eyes determined to not think of anything. Clearing her mind was not easy given that there was so much to think about. Eventually, she gave up and pulled out her cell phone. As bizarre as it was she could only think of person to talk to in amidst this mess.

Her phone in hand, she typed until she was satisfied with the message: “Got the crystal. Yes to having that talk this evening.”

Yet, she stared at the text for a while she finally sent it off. It was about the tenth version she had typed into her smart phone. Inviting him to sneak around the twins was making her feel awful but she was also angry that it had to be that way. Melissa was probably right: she shouldn’t be alone with Peter. Only none of her friends seemed to be willing to act as a chaperone of sorts, which meant she had to do it this way.

Even though that might lead to further trouble between her and Aiden if her friends found out. Lydia had no doubt that Peter would make sure they did. She only hoped this would not happen right away. Lydia knew she needed more time to figure out what was going on so she could convince her friends that they should listen to Peter if they wanted to stop these killings.

The more the everyone reminded her how shady and untrustworthy Peter was, the more she realised that maybe exactly because of what Peter did he was the one to ask. Whatever he planned to do afterwards, Lydia believed that he did want these very ghastly killings to end. If they could stop them it hardly mattered if Peter didn’t do it for the same reason she and her friends had.

There was no reply to her text and so she re-read her entries in her dream diary and the notes she had made about the dream book in them. It also astonished her how many eyes and eye parts she had drawn into the book. If anyone saw those who didn’t knew why she drew, they’d certainly think she was a total nutjob. She also put the dream book on her bed and started to re-examine some of the chapters.

Lydia knew it was a mistake to read lying on her bed, when she found herself napping away. She sat up and yawned. It was probably time to get a cold drink from the kitchen and stretch her legs a bit. When she came downstairs she saw the very intriguing sight of Aiden working out. He was doing push-ups with one arm while being utterly shirtless.

When he noticed her, he stopped and gave her a look that was ruining the sheer optical pleasure for Lydia. “I’m getting a drink, any idea what you want to eat? Or is Ethan bringing something when he is coming back?”

“I suppose we could order pizza or something,” he said as if he didn’t really cared.

Then Aiden turned his back to her and walked up to the stairs, where he jumped up grabbed between the bars of the second floor railing and began doing chin-ups. Lydia did not stop and stare, instead she walked past him to the kitchen. One thing she knew: she was not in the mood for pizza or take-out. So she made herself a smoothie with frozen strawberries, raspberries, bananas, strawberry yoghurt and milk.

Just as she had poured everything in the mixer and was about to switch it on, she heard Aiden groan and fall. Rushing out she saw him lying on the floor, his face was a mask of pain and his hands pressed against his stomach. Lydia felt a sense of panic as she could not see any wounds or even blood. Even though she had no idea what to do she ran to his side. Dropping down onto her knees next to him, Lydia could tell he was still adjusting to pain.

“Aiden, what is it?” Fear swung in her voice as she pulled his head into her lap.

“Ethan,” Aiden pressed out and then with some breaks he managed to add. ”Someone shot him.”

Then slowly he rose, using her shoulder to prop himself up. He staggered a bit but it seemed like either the pain was lessening or Aiden had grown accustomed to it. Lydia realised her own legs were shaking a bit as she rose from the floor. He was avoiding her, deliberately not looking at her, as he walked to his jacket.

Lydia sat down at the edge of the sofa and watched Aiden pulling out his phone. There was no reply as he called Ethan. “I need to find him, but …”

“... no but - go. I’ll be fine.”

She saw his hesitation, but only for a moment. It was obvious to both of them, that if he took her with him, she’d not only be a liability but that she’d also be slowing him down. Lydia was pretty sure that with Peter coming by chances of something happening to her very pretty slim but Aiden of course did not know about that.

Putting his clothes back on, he told her to call Scott just to be safe and then he hurried off. She heard his bike roaring down the street even after she had closed the door behind him. It was almost strange to be alone in the house again, especially now that Prada was staying with their housekeeper. Aiden was right about one thing, she probably should minimize the time she was alone.

Walking up to her room, she knew she would make a phone call but not to get Scott to come over: she would call Peter so they could have their little chat. She had just climbed the stairs when she heard the doorbell ring. The sound made her uneasy, as it was unexpected and also meant that she had to deal with someone when she clearly was not up to it.

Lydia wondered if Peter had actually taking her seriously on the whole using the front door given that the twins were not there. As she opened the door, it was not Peter’s smug smile that greeted her. Deucalion was standing on her doorstep. The grin on his face chilled her to the bone. Instinct alone made her slam the door in a completely useless attempt to close the door on him.

“Not very polite, are we?” Deucalion mocked her with a sardonic tone.

Deep down Lydia knew even a closed door would not stop him but the shock alone made it hard to think straight. When his hand stopped the door and he stepped forward she first took two steps back and then she ran. Lydia could not believe when she actually was able to put some distance between them. She heard him closing the door as she ran down the kitchen and towards the back door. Deucalion was following her but he was taking his time. There was this horrible noise similar to chalk writing on a blackboard at the wrong angle.

Lydia knew she had a decisions to make: run out the back door away from the house or take the second set of stairs to the end of the second floor hallway. In a heartbeat she decided to attempt to get to her room. She could not even rationally explain to herself why she was heading there. As she ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, Lydia told herself that maybe she could at least reach her cell phone.

On the last step, she stumbled and saw Deucalion almost casually walking up the stairs at the bottom. He moved fast but without actually running. The noise she had been hearing were his claws scraping over the railing and the wall. Getting back on her feet she ran past the guest room she had slept in the other two nights. Deucalion was never far behind and when she reached her room, she slipped inside and locked it in one quick move.

Her cell was still in her handbag and by the time she held it in her hand, Deucalion was playing with the doorknob. The clacking noise made her hands shake even worse. All she managed to do was pressing the redial combo on her cell phone. Then it slipped out of her trembling hands as her door was smashed in once more. She turned around slowly not really wanting to see what was coming at her.

The door was splintered and only hanging on by one hinge, the frame was filled by a creepily, calm werewolf. Deucalion looked different than in the cabin; for once his eyes were no longer bright red but an icy glowing blue. His skin tone remained unchanged instead of the ashen black, but with the fangs, the pointy ears and the excess facial hair, he still looked terrifying. The murderous look in his eyes last night had been enough to scare her, this was tenfold worse. Yet, somehow she managed to open her mouth and speak up.

“If you kill me, you’re as good as dead yourself.”

It was not so much an attempt to deter him but if Peter picked up, he might hear and if he was close by already, then maybe there was hope left. Lydia was looking around unsure where to go from here; especially since there was nowhere to go, except maybe the bathroom. Deucalion clearly was giving her the chance to make another move. He was like a cat playing with a mouse and Lydia was too aware of that.

Hoping that she could buy enough time, she made that leap and shut herself in the small room with an equally useless door for protection. For a moment nothing happened, then the locked door was opened with a cracking noise as Deucalion pulled it open with an ease as if it had never been locked. He held her cell phone in his hands and smiled viciously from the device to her. Right in front of her he crumbled it and then threw the bent and broken remains at her feet.

“I’ve no intention of killing you - at least not for now.” As he spoke, he closed in on her, making her back up against the wall of the shower. “Last time the two of you had all the fun.” He grabbed her neck and pressing her against the cold tiles, he leaned down to her face. “This time, I promise, the pleasure will be all mine.”

Lydia found her breathing become faster and more shallow as he made it clear what kind of payback he had in mind. “I wasn’t asked either,” she replied with her voice sounding utterly hopeless.

“Is that what you keep telling your friends? I’m not new to this, my senses pick up on the smallest signals they couldn’t even notice if I pointed it out to them.” He leaned closer and his venom filled voice whispered into her ear. “My hearing is particularly sensitive. So don’t act as if you aren’t lusting for him.”

Speechless with terror she knew protesting was useless. If she replied that she was not, Lydia knew she would be lying. Tears streamed down her cheeks, because she couldn’t help the fact that despite what happened she felt attracted to Peter. She had no idea how Deucalion had picked up on this. As badly as she searched for words to explain that this did not prove that she was working with him, they wouldn’t come to her.

Warm lips pressed against her neck where it was not covered by his hand. He had continually pressed tighter until she was just barely getting enough air to not pass out. Lydia felt the tip of his claws running over her shirt and it was almost like he was testing her. Trying to figure out what terrified her the most.

“Did you have Ethan shot to lure Aiden away?”

It was something that had occurred to her and that now became a tool to distract and delay him by disrupting whatever sick game he was playing with her.

“Oh, is that why Aiden left?” Deucalion's voice was filled with fake pity. “Guess now we know where his priorities lie.” There was also this initial surprise that told her he had been waiting for his chance. He clearly was not willing to let her distract him. “That shows clearly that there are only so many favours you can gather lying on your back.”

Still holding her up against the wall, his free thumb was suddenly brushing over her lips. As he continued to speak, she felt a claw pulling her lip down. “I’m surprised you haven’t made any offers yet. It’s not like you haven’t already demonstrated where your true talents lie.”

There was something absolutely vile about the tone and the gesture but if he was thinking she had any intention of doing so, Deucalion was severely mistaken. As terrified as she was, Lydia turned her head, which caused the claw to leave a bloody cut on it. Once her mouth was free, she looked back at him.

“More like disappointed,” Lydia told him bitterly, “we both know that this would never happen in a million years.”

Provocation was probably not the most reasonable action but after the past days she had no tolerance left for any of this: not the blatant shaming for daring to enjoy to have sex, for blaming her for that sex ritual in which she had no say in and certainly not for not being traumatised to the nth degree by it. He did not react immediately, just kept staring at her for a moment. Then he used the grip on her throat to slide her down the tiled wall.

“How about in sixty seconds?”

Deucalion sounded very calm and slightly amused. His free hand unbuckled his belt and Lydia realised that she was not in a position to stop him. Still she felt around with her hand and when she touched the knob that turned on the shower, she quickly turned it on. As the water splashed into his face, at least for a moment, he was distracted and let her go.

Lydia had not really expected to get far, being almost on her knees, when she tried to dive past him. The few seconds he needed to recover and turn off the water, just let her pass him a few inches before his hand grabbed her hair and pulled her back.

“I don’t know about you, but I think it’s a bit too wet and cold in here for my liking.”

Dragging her out of the bathroom, she half-stumbled, half-crawled alongside until he finally grabbed her arm and pulled her up only to throw her onto her bed. His jacket and shirt were almost completely soaked at the top as was his hair and face. Despite all this he seemed unphased, calm and collected.

He placed her into the middle and climbed on top of her. Pinning her arms to her side as he straddled her, Deucalion removed his wet jacket. The t-shirt underneath clung to his chest, even without being a werewolf the amount of muscles under the fabric and those well-trained arms would render her defenseless. She really wished she knew how to use her special talents to call for help but that came and went and mostly when she was overcome by a sense of immediate impending doom. Even if she could, that was just another moment. Helpless she watched as he reached to pull off his shirt when he suddenly stopped.

He turned his upper body and looked in direction of her walk-in closet. Then quickly he moved, he was still kneeling on the bed but beside instead of on top of her. As Lydia followed his gaze, she realised she had never been so happy to see Peter.

Both werewolves stared at each other, Deucalion shifted again and she heard his deep, angry breath as his ice-blue eyes pierced into Peter who observed him with an almost serene expression. Somehow Lydia could feel intense wrath radiating from Peter’s side of the room. When she looked up at Deucalion she realised that he was still able to kill her with one strike.

“That’s close enough.”

Pointing his clawed fingers in his direction, Peter took the hint and stopped his approach. Instead he finally spoke. “Far be it from me to judge, but this is low, even for you.”

“Just passing the time,” Deucalion stated flatly. “You know what I want.”

A smile appeared on Peter’s face and then it occurred to Lydia that not once since he arrived he had even looked at her. His sole focus was on Deucalion and if he was indeed angry at all, Peter was hiding it very well. The strained sobs were the only noise disrupting the silence, until Peter finally replied.

“You won’t get it.”

Deucalion’s face darkened. “Either you tell me how to reverse the ritual - or I am going to kill her.”

“Be my guest.”

Shrugging Peter raised his arms and pointed in their general direction. His voice was void of any compassion and when she looked up at Deucalion and saw his eyes turn to slits, she knew he was just mad enough to kill her. Lydia had not really time to process what just had transpired, there was just the shock, maybe a feeling of betrayal but most of all the sense of death coming upon her.

The scream came even before Deucalion had a chance to strike out. His expression turned from cold anger to incredible pain, instead of slashing her throat, his hands instinctively went to protect his ears. Lydia was not sure how long her scream lasted nor did she focus on much while it had come over her.

Once she stopped, Deucalion was crouching on the end of her bed with his gaze turned towards her. Exhausted and scared she found herself staring back into the cold blue eyes. Which suddenly disappeared as she felt his weight being pulled off of her. Still out of it, Lydia looked into the direction her attacker went. Catching a brief glimpse of glowing red eyes, she watched as Peter slammed Deucalion into one of her book shelves. The figurines placed in front of the spines clanged as they fell when the whole shelf trembled under the impact. When Deucalion was pulled off it, the shelves collapsed and everything smashed to the ground.

If she didn’t know it had to be Peter, she would not have recognised him. His skin had the same ashen-black tone as Deucalion had back in the cabin, only his face was even more distorted. The mouth was extended with razor sharp teeth, that involuntarily made her clutch her left side.

Both growled at each other, Deucalion tried to fight back but Lydia could see first hand why the twins used to be so afraid of him. Now that Peter had all his power, Deucalion was not standing a chance. Even though he did manage to land a few blows, they barely seemed to phase Peter whose claws left deep gashes. It was hard to follow the fight as the two werewolves moved incredibly fast.

Blood sprayed over the floor and the furniture that was getting wrecked as the two fought each other. It all went down so quickly that she was almost startled when Deucalion leapt at her, but he was stopped and thrown around.

His body smashed vertically through the wall between two windows, smashing both of them and leaving a gap in the wall. The destruction was tremendous despite everything being over quickly. Lydia was not sure whether she was shivering from shock or the cold air that seeped into her room.

Peter stepped forward to the broken window front and looked down. For a moment she felt that he was going to go after Deucalion and then finally he looked at her. His face shifted back and the skin revered back to his normal tone. With one final look down on the grass where she supposed Deucalion still had to be, he said in a calm and yet extremely threatening tone: “If you come near her again, if you even dare to threaten her again, I will put you out of your misery.”

A few moments passed and then he stepped away from the windows towards the bed. Lydia felt herself backing up, she only stopped when she saw Peter briefly hesitating in his approach. When he sat down beside her, her heart beat frantically inside her chest. A sense of dread was still over her but she also realised that Peter was not here to hurt her, it was quite the opposite.

“You’re safe now,” he said reassuringly and held out his hand.

With some reluctance Lydia reached out; she was not even sure if it was just her or Peter pulling her closer but it ended with her leaning against his chest his arms firmly wrapped around her. Nothing was said and slowly she began calming down. Peter kept stroking over her arm and back which actually did help with the process. As her breathing went back to normal and her heart finally stopped pounding Peter pulled her back. He looked at her neck and given how much it still hurt, she did not want to know how bad it was. There was also the small cut on her lips that caught his attention and Lydia was not sure what to make of his reaction. She was convinced he was still angry but that was not written in his face, it was more a feeling. The way he touched her cheek and hesitated to touch even the unblemished part of her lips made it seem as if he actually cared.

“Why act so concerned now?”

Given his past behaviour and the way he acted before, no matter how strategic it might have been, this was gentle approach was making her angry. It might be touching if it was actually real but she knew him too well to believe he actually cared all that much. Especially since he was partially responsible.

“Ever considered that maybe I was acting before? You know why I said what I said back there, don’t you?”

Of course, she knew what he had been playing at. Not right away, then again if she had it might not have worked. It was only when she truly believed her life was in danger that she seemed to be able to scream in a way that forced the werewolves to keel over in pain. Peter had certainly counted on it. Yet, hearing his cold words apparently dooming her was not something she could forgot. Especially not the way it had made her feel.

“Yes - but if not for you, he would never have come after me in the first place.” Lydia knew she couldn’t let him dictate the tone of this conversation, she needed to stay upset at him: alone for the fact that she was too willing to listen what he had to say.

“I know,” he said with a guilty face, “I just made the wrong assumption that the twins would be looking after you … mind telling me you what was so important that they left you?”

“Ethan was shot,” she said worried. “Aiden went to find him. How could I ask him to stay under the circumstances,” Lydia tried to explain and realised that she had grown tired of the constant need for protection. She had wanted to have a moment truly to herself and with Peter coming by anyway it hadn’t seemed so dangerous. Of course she had not counted on Deucalion sneaking around her place just waiting for an opportunity. “Knowing you …” her voice trailed off.

“Luckily, I was already on my way,” he did sound angry for a moment. Then taking a deep breath he let his arms slide down. “Okay, pack a few of your things.”

“What?” Lydia asked looking up.

“You’re coming with me,” he stated firmly. “At least with me you can be sure, I’ll make your safety my top priority.”

It was weird, because his statement made her feel angry and at the same time Lydia also liked the idea. There was dispute that he sort of had put her in the middle of this mess, which she figured made her angry about it. That was not it. Disentangling herself from the embrace she threw back her hair to have it out of her face.

“I doubt that anyone besides yourself will ever be your top priority.”

He tried giving her a hurt look but ultimately ended up smiling too hard. “Even so, it’s not like I’m going to run out on you to watch out for myself.” Peter touched her cheek making her look at him as he continued. “Do you honestly feel better about staying with the twins, after this? Maybe with Scott?”

It seemed there was more to say but something distracted him. “Either way it is not up for debate. You can pack or I can carry you off right now.”

“Fine,” Lydia knew when arguing was useless. “I’ll pack.”

“Don’t take too much time, we are going to have guests.”

“Who? The police?”

A nod was all the answer she got, before he stepped past the unhinged door to look down the corridor. She had only her small travelling bag in her closet but that was probably enough for now. Without much hesitation she packed the bare necessities: underwear, socks, a few shirts, a dress, a nightgown and a pair of jeans.

When she stepped into the bathroom a chilly feeling overcame her. In the mirror she saw her neck looked relatively normal, only the cut on her lip stood out. Looking away, she saw that her broken cell on the floor. Another reminder of what almost happened. She wanted to get out of that room, if she never had to go inside again, that could not be soon enough. Quickly she gathered her toiletries and stormed out again. As she put the bag down on her bed, Lydia noticed that Peter was gone and when she turned she saw the blinking police light from the car parked in front of the house.

With little time to lose, she grabbed the notebook from her nightstand, the dream book and just to be on the safe side, this and next month’s pill case She really hoped it would not take weeks for things to go back to normal. Since she did not trust Peter nor herself around him, that made total sense to her. There was still a bit of space and she decided to add another pair of shoes, wishing she could take more along.

Zipping up the bag, she heard shouting from downstairs. If she wasn’t entirely mistaken it was the sheriff ordering Peter to lie down. Which she could tell was a horrible idea and with the bag in hand she shouldered her handbag with the crystal inside and made her way towards the voices.

Before she even got to the corridor a shot was fired and someone was clearly thrown against something. As she looked down over the railing of the staircase, she saw that Peter had taken the sheriff’s gun away. Stiles’s father was lying beside the toppled over couch.

“A word of advice: Focus your energy on catching the actual bad guys,” he walked over to him and bend down to whisper something to him.

Lydia could not understand what he was saying and by the time she had reached the last step, Peter was already standing up and approached her.

“What did you do to him?” Feeling kind of silly for saying that when it seemed so obvious but she was lacking the right words to voice her disapproval.

With a shrug he calmly replied. “Told him not to interfere, he wouldn’t listen.”

The sheriff slowly got up again using the toppled couch to help him on his feet. “Leave the girl alone - haven’t you harmed her enough?”

Peter smiled amused as he turned back into his direction. The sheriff was only trying to protect her as well, he was just not realising what had happened here. Hoping to defuse the situation she took a hold of Peter’s left arm. “Sheriff, it wasn’t him. Deucalion attacked me.” After a moment she added. “Peter actually saved me.”

“I keep telling everyone that I’m not the bad guy,” he said gloating as if that one act negated everything else he had done so far. Using the chance he leaned over and took her over-night bag. “Let’s go.”

“You’re not taking her with you.” Stiles’s father was not ready to give up yet, despite being unarmed and clearly out of his league.

Feeling the tension and annoyance coming from Peter, she tightened her grip hoping he would give her another chance to convince the Sheriff. “I’ll be much safer from Deucalion and whatever else is out there. Besides, someone shot Ethan.” Lydia could see that he didn’t knew about that. “Now, Aiden is out there - looking for him. If you want to help someone who actually needs it - that’d be my suggestion.”

“And if I were you Sheriff, I wouldn’t call her parents about this either - they’re much safer not being here. I can only keep so many people safe.”

It was hard to say if that was a threat. The idea alone what might happen if her parents returned and Deucalion and that other thing were still after her, Peter did not need to throw around threats, they would automatically be in danger. Lydia didn’t really want them to find out, she knew they could not handle it. “Please, Sheriff.”

“If you lay a hand on her - I will find a way to get you,” John Stilinski said full of determination.

As Peter could not leave things alone, he moved his free hand around her waist and took a possessive hold of her. “Keep telling that to yourself.”

Even though he stared at Peter grudgingly, there was no further attempt by Stiles’s father to stop them. Lydia hoped that by making it clear that she didn’t mind going with Peter under the circumstances helped to diffuse the situation. There was no doubt that her friends would probably not react too well to this.

Outside they walked past the police car and Lydia had the distinct feeling that Peter was about to slash the tires. Instead he walked a bit faster and they disappeared down the darkening street and she just hoped that the Sheriff had no intention to call the police force onto them. Somehow she just knew this would be a bad idea.


	17. Beyond the Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sheriff has a rough night: Lydia being kidnapped by Peter, a super freaked son and no idea how to remedy the situation. With a werewolf on werewolf shooting, John Stilinsky has to step outside law if he wants to keep a lid on the situation.
> 
> _Not that this revelation was making John any more willing to accept the help from a murderer, kidnapper, and rapist. That line of thought made his hands shake a bit when he also thought of Lydia. Once more, John felt like a coward and complete failure for not protecting her. If not for worrying about the life of his deputies, he would have gone ahead and issued that APB after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [AWaywardHunter](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4392546/) for betaing and soo much thanks for my anonymous beta who made me improve on descriptions and other stuff. (Also might edit the later parts a bit - but I've kept everyone waiting long enough and the content won't change - just the readability will increase ;))
> 
> [Chapter 16 Summary](http://www.maratofel.net/index.php?page=ch-16-homealone)

John Stilinski felt absolutely rotten. He told himself that he’d had no choice but to let Lydia leave with Peter. Yet, it felt wrong. Whatever excuses he made, that didn’t change how he felt about letting them walk out of the door.

He’d always figured if the werewolves made trouble, he would just arrest them.

It wasn’t so easy, not when they moved faster than he could aim and shoot; from what his son had told him, an ordinary bullet might not do much to stop a werewolf, anyway. He remembered how Jennifer had kept coming at him. Alone, John had no chance. So he told himself, if he tried anything he would only get himself hurt or killed and would still not be able to prevent anything.

He told himself that he needed to call backup.

His body ached as he finally tried to stand upright again. Letting go of the supporting couch he slowly began to walk normal again, interrupted by phases of bending over a bit. His old bones needed the reprieve as they were not handling this level of violence well. John felt that had landed badly on his tail bone, when Peter had thrown him through the room earlier.

It took a moment to get used to the feeling, but the pain actually subsided as he kept walking on stubbornly ignoring it. He staggered on occasion but managed to avoid further aid from furnitures. By the time he stepped outside, he was walking more securely.

“Damn it!” he cursed angrily.

He had hoped to maybe get an idea into which direction Peter and Lydia had gone. There was not one sign of that. Just the dark, badly illuminated street. He would have to have word with city works about the lights on this street.

He opened the door and leaned in to get the radio from the dashboard. He cleared his throat before keying it up to to identify himself. Then when he let go and Sheryl in dispatch answered him, he paused. John realised that if he called for backup and put out an APB on Peter, he would only endanger his deputies. Peter had made it quite clear that he would not tolerate interference. It would probably mean that Peter was ready and willing to kill everyone standing in his way. He had lost men to a supernatural before. Jackson as the kanima, then being a slave to Matt’s whims, had butchered the entire night-shift in a matter of minutes. He could not afford a massacre like the one Matt had caused when he had let Jackson, then being a slave to his whims as the kanima, butcher the entire night-shift. This was one of those things that needed to be solved by Scott and the others who were better equipped to handle the situation.

The sheriff and the adult in him cringed at the thought of leaving this to a bunch of teenagers but he had to admit that he was out of his depth on this one. Seeing the smashed window and the punched out concrete wall between them on the second floor, there was no denying it: unlike Chris he wasn’t trained for this and the police force was no match for the supernatural speed and strength.

“Sheryl,” he finally said. “I’m at the Martin residence, there has indeed been a break in. Send Percy and Miles over to secure the house and interview the neighbours. I also fired a warning shot at one of the perpetrators, but they got away.”

“Consider it done, Sheriff,” came the routine reply.

“And Sheryl?” he added, thinking of something else. “Have there been any other reports of shootings this afternoon or evening?”

“Let me take a look … there was one in the early afternoon - a cleaning accident with no casualties, except for a tv set, and an hour ago a shot was fired on Union Street along with a fight. We sent a unit around but nobody saw anything. There was no sign of a shooting - except for a little blood on the street.”

John sighed; that always seemed to be the case. Sometimes, they could be lucky if people called 911 in the first place, but usually nobody wanted to get involved, and most were too afraid to even look. People always seemed to sense something dark going on in situations like that and kept out of sight accordingly. If he didn’t solve this soon, he doubted he would be re-elected as Sheriff.

He felt a headache coming on. Just as he decided to head to Union Street, John heard his cell phone ring. From the ringtone, he could tell it was his son. He wasn’t ready to explain to him what happened. Lydia was more than just a good friend; John knew that his son had harboured an unrequited crush on her for years. There also were her special abilities with which Stiles had been helping her as much as he could.

“Hi Stiles, is everything okay?” His hopes of not sounding too worried were quickly crushed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Stiles said sounding suspicious. At least his son didn’t seem to be in trouble; that was a relief. “Dad, did something happen?” he asked, anxiously.

“You can say that.” John needed to tell Stiles about Lydia being taken by Peter face to face. As much as it would hurt to see his son’s disappointment, it was not the type of message that one gave over the phone.

It was not yet curfew and so, running his fingers through his hair, John asked his son where he currently was.

“At the county’s best veterinarian’s. The one that patches up household pets as well as mythical creatures.” There was a pause and he could tell that Stiles was not sure whether to go on. He had thought they were done with lying and half-truths.

“Stiles,” he said with a slightly warning tone.

“All right,” his son gave in. “Ethan might currently be bleeding like a stuck pig over here. Seriously, I hope Deaton likes the colour red because I don’t think it’s going anywhere for a while. Some crazy chick - excuse me, some crazy werewolf - with an assault rifle decided he’d look good with a few more holes in him. I know what you’re thinking, too: a werewolf with an assault rifle? That’s got to be cheating. And it totally is! I mean, you’re given the natural advantage of claws and fangs and supernatural speed and you go with an assault rifle? How fu- effing lame is that?”

“Was he shot near Union Street?” The cop in John had to ask.

“We didn’t ask him for the address given that he is bleeding all over the place ...”

In the background he could hear screaming and Deaton saying something that he didn’t quite hear.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes, th …” he stopped himself.

No reason to worry Stiles by announcing a dreadful message to come. Before he could hang up, though, he was interrupted.

“Wait, Dad! Aiden is here, too - that means Lydia is all by herself. Peter-phile tends to capitalize on those moments so we should give him as few as possible.“

“Yeah, she told me about Ethan - I was in the neighbourhood.”

“Way to be one step ahead, old man. It’s a good thing I’ve got your genes.”

John rolled his eyes. His son knew how to turn a compliment for him into one for himself. Stiles started speaking again, asking for a favour, and with each word, John felt worse and worse because he couldn’t do it.

“Can you bring her to Deaton’s?” Stiles asked, sounding so relieved. “You know, safety in numbers and all that.”

“Son -“ he began but yet again, Stiles interrupted him.

“Sorry, dad, they need another pair of hands.” And with that, his son hung up.

John took a deep breath. This evening was going from bad to worse at a ludicrous speed, as his son would say. With a sigh, John got into his car and set off.

On the way to the animal clinic he kept thinking about what Peter had whispered to him before Lydia had reached the end of the stairs.

“With your son and his friends inviting so much death into this city, I suggest not making me an enemy. I can be a useful ally - but stand in my way and you’ll regret it.”

John wasn’t sure what the werewolf was talking about but he had the feeling he wouldn’t like the answer. While it was possible that he had only said it to mess with John’s head, there was a smugness about the way Peter had said it that told him there was more to it. Especially, when John thought about the grin that followed when Peter had seen that John had no idea what he was talking about.

John and Stiles had agreed that there would be no secrets anymore but it seemed that his son and his werewolf buddies had still decided to leave something out.

Not that this revelation was making John any more willing to accept the help from a murderer, kidnapper, and rapist. That line of thought made his hands shake a bit when he also thought of Lydia. Once more, John felt like a coward and complete failure for not protecting her. If not for worrying about the life of his deputies, he would have gone ahead and issued that APB after all.

The really hard thing would be to explain to his son why he wasn’t able to stop Peter from taking Lydia. With each mile that he got closer, John formed more ideas about what he might have done differently: he could have kept his distance, shouted a warning to Lydia so she could get away or stopped Peter from approaching him somehow. There had to be something that John could have said or done to change the outcome. It had happened so quickly, John had never experienced anyone moving so fast that he had not really seen the motion to begin with. It was just a blur and suddenly John’s gun had been twisted from his hand. John felt quite lost in the face of something supernatural.

As John finally parked in front of the Clinic, even before he got out of his car, his attention fell he immediately on the trail of blood leading into the building. Knowing how busy everyone had been not twenty minutes ago when he had been on the phone with Stiles, he was not surprised that nobody greeted him. He parked the car close to the blood and when he got out he inspected the end of the trail, which started out of nowhere.

It was like someone had dropped him off, as the blood pooled at this point. 

He could only speculate at this point and so he went towards the building, carefully not to step into the blood. The sign at the door read: Closed but he found the door was unlocked. Either they had left it open for him or forgotten to lock in all the hectic. Inside he saw the trail continue to the examining room. Knowing he was expected, he went on ahead. The smell of blood intensified but there was also an underlying smell of ammonia.

Only the twins and Dr. Deaton were in the examining room. Aiden stood behind his brother, calm for now but tense and full of anger underneath. Ethan lay on the examining table: bare chested and with a nasty looking gunshot wound. There was blood all over the floor and from the tracks in it, John knew the table had been shoved quickly into the middle of the room. Ethan didn’t seem to be conscious. There was an oxygen mask on his face and his chest moved slowly but steadily.

“Sheriff.” Deaton nodded in his direction while removing his second glove.

The veterinarian's white coat was covered with blood but he clearly had done his job right. Ethan’s wound was no longer bleeding. It was still gaping open and definitely not in a condition a normal human’s wound should be left in, but John knew very little about werewolf biology. It wasn’t, however, healing as fast as John had expected from what his son had told him about their healing abilities.

“Is he going to be alright?” John asked, concerned.

“The bullet was laced with wolfsbane; not the deadly kind but enough to slow down the healing process,” Deaton calmly explained.

Aiden looked absolutely livid but at the same time unwilling to leave his brother’s side. John took this as a good sign that, at least, for now he wasn’t about to do anything dangerous. From what he had heard about werewolf vendettas, it would mean even more bodies and he would not stand for that. Although, given that Ethan was a werewolf, going up against the shooter legally would be hard. They could hardly tell the truth in court and wouldn’t even have proper proof of a wound. Never mind the fact that a veterinarian was not a legally viable option to treat the victim of a shooting.

“Dad!” Stiles greeted him enthusiastically, coming out of the lab room. His face grew worried as he looked around the room. He focused back on John, sounding serious as he spoke again. “I notice a distinct lack of 5’3” strawberry-blonde banshee.”

John wondered what to make of the banshee comment but that seemed beside the point when he had to explain Lydia’s absence to the room. Scott, who had followed Stiles back into the examination room, gave him a look as if he knew already why she was missing. Aiden seemed to become angrier as well.

“I’m sorry, son. I couldn’t stop him.” John looked at his son.

“Fuck,” Stiles shook his head. If cursing was ever appropriate it had to be at this moment. Besides it felt wrong to lecture his son about word use when he had failed to protect the girl he’d had a crush on since third grade. “Damnit, I knew it wasn’t just a dream she had,” his son was looking at Scott.

John looked at them with the distinct feeling that he was missing an important piece of information. It was Scott who saw the expression on his face and filled in the blanks. “Aiden and I heard her scream earlier. That usually doesn’t mean anything good.”

John remembered it from the night when he had been taken the Darach; the scream had echoed through the entire school, leading him to the classroom where Jennifer had tried to strangle Lydia.

“Peter took her,” John quickly said to avoid them thinking the worst, even though it looked pretty bleak from where he was standing. “I got a call about a disturbance at her house - when I arrived Peter was already there. I tried to arrest him but he took my gun away, he moved so fast …” He felt his voice trail off, not knowing what else to say to explain his failure. Worst of all was seeing the expression on his son’s face.

“Damn it!” Aiden slapped his fist on the steel table. “I should’ve taken her with me.”

For a moment everyone just stared at the twin. It was undeniable that leaving Lydia alone had been a terrible decision but given the circumstances, nobody seemed to have the heart to say it out loud.

“Fucking Peter. We should’ve known he’d pull something like this. We should’ve - Derek should have killed him as soon as he popped back up and shook off the dirt!” Stiles suddenly burst out.

John found himself taken back by the reaction. It was shocking to see that his son would so openly want someone dead. Not only that but expected someone to kill him. Even more so it reminded him that Stiles had in fact been involved in killing Peter Hale a year ago. That was more disturbing than anything else, even though they dealt with a remorseless killer.

“Stiles.” Scott took a step forward.

“We should have killed him when we had the chance,” Aiden said with cold fury in his voice.

“Woah, okay - I know he needs to be stopped but I can’t condone killing someone,” John told them with growing firmness in his voice, before it swung around to sounding weak and defeated. He had more bad news to share. “There’s something else.”

Still upset, Stiles interrupted him: “She wasn’t hurt, was she?”

“No, I mean…” John stopped, remembering that he had seen strangulation marks on her neck and the cut on her lip. “I think she was okay.”

“That’s not giving me as much comfort as you might think,” Stiles said sarcastically, but there was real terror under the words.“We know what he did with her once and even if it’s just a repeat performance, she’s still pretty shit out of luck.”

That was not something John would even like to contemplate, that this was the reason why Peter actually came back for Lydia. She’d seemed so calm, practically asking him to let her go with Peter. John realised that she had been concerned for his safety, knowing well enough what could have happened if he had kept insisting that Peter could not take her.

“The thing is,” he began, unsure of how to put it. “Lydia told me that Deucalion attacked her. It seems like Peter did save her.”

Mentioning Deucalion made the situation even more tense. Aiden was fuming, Stiles shocked, and Scott looked somewhat guilty. Only Deaton kept his calm demeanour up.

It got worse once John had gotten to Peter’s role in this evenings drama. If anything he didn’t want to make it seem like that excused his behaviour but he also didn’t want to brush this under the table. “I didn’t have time to find out what exactly happened but the way Lydia acted around Peter,” shaking his head, John sighed, “I don’t think was responsible for her …”

“... her what?” Stiles said, carefully, like he was bracing for the worst. .

“There was a small cut on her lip and her voice sounded a bit,” he paused, anticipating how awful this might sound for the others, “like she’d been strangled. She seemed alright apart from that.”

“Well, so much for escorting Deucalion out of town,” Aiden stated, flatly.

Scott shook his head and looked directly at Aiden. “We need to find a better solution; killing can’t be our first option! Besides if you hadn’t left her alone, she wouldn’t have been in danger.”

“Let’s keep it real: both of you screwed up,” Stiles said, pointing fingers at both standing alphas. “The question remains how do we get her back and will you be able to do what’s necessary this time around?”

Looking from Scott to Aiden, Stiles’ gaze lingered on the twin. It was clear that he expected a more violent resolution. While John understood the worry in regards to Lydia he couldn’t condone planning with a kill in mind.

“Maybe if you worked together, we could arrest both of them: There has to be a way to prove them guilty.”

“That might not be the best idea,” Deaton finally interjected some advice into the conversation. “Deucalion might decide to take you all down with him. Losing his powers certainly made him more unstable than even before.”

Scott nodded. “Plus, if Peter has his powers now - and if he managed to save Lydia from Deucalion, he probably has - I’m not sure he’d let himself be taken in. That’s if we can find him.”

“So we do nothing?” Stiles asked, throwing his arms in the air in frustration.

“We’re going to find her. As soon as Ethan is better, we go out and don’t stop until we get Lydia back.” Aiden sounded very determined. It was clear he was still angry; not just at Peter and Deucalion, but also at himself.

It was evident that finding Peter might be the hard part. John told the others that even though he’d had his department on the lookout since their big meeting, nobody had seen him. There was no apartment registered to his name, no car, and nothing that pointed them in the direction of where they might find Peter Hale.

“I haven’t been able to find him or his downtown apartment,” Scott admitted. “I honestly don’t know what to do. What if Peter isn’t lying about not being involved with the other killings? If we split our focus, we’re never going to stop any of this. If we combine our efforts to go after Peter, then that leaves the others killers completely unchecked.”

Stiles’ mouth had dropped open as Scott began. Blinking in disbelief at the end of Scott’s proposal, Stiles went off on a tangent. “So what? You actually suggest that we just leave her with someone we know is a depraved, undead sociopathic killer? What? Because it’s difficult to get her back? Because you might have to do something that isn’t hundred percent above board, true alpha?”

“No,” Scott replied, defensively. “I’ve been thinking - Peter really has made an effort to show us that he’s not running around killing people anymore. I think that’s supposed to tell us something. I’m not excusing what he did to Lydia but if she’s able to put that aside...”

“What if she’s not? What if that is just him using his undue influence on her mind to manipulate her into going along with this?” Stiles was clearly opposed to Scott’s line of thought. John was inclined to agree with his son. There was no telling what could happen to a seventeen year old girl, no matter how smart she was, if left alone with a shady figure like Peter Hale.

“The killings need to be stopped but we don’t have anything concrete, while getting Lydia back is actually something we can manage.” John interrupted their conversation to put some adult authority out there. “One thing we might do - or rather that I might do - is visit the family lawyer.”

“Family lawyer?” Scott and Stiles said, almost simultaneously.

John saw that Aiden raised a disapproving brow in the background, but otherwise remained silent. There was no need to say anything - nobody was really happy with the suggestion, including John himself.

“The Hale family has a lawyer. He’s been in charge of the family accounts, and he’s the one who has paid for Peter’s medical bills. Clearly, he has been in touch with him in the past year,” John explained. “The only problem is that he’s out of town and the secretary couldn’t give me a phone number or an address. He’s supposed to come back this weekend - so maybe I can get a location as early as Monday morning.”

“Monday morning? Dad, it’s Friday night!”

It was understandable that Stiles was upset about the prospect of leaving Lydia with Peter for the entire weekend, but even if they went out looking for her, there was no guarantee that they would find her any sooner.

“I know, but Peter Hale is not the only danger out there. You need to be careful. You can’t just run frantically about hoping to find something. If you get yourself killed that won’t help Lydia one bit.” While the words were not untrue, it still felt to John as if he was hiding behind the convenient truth.

“If you’re worried about Peter performing another ritual with Lydia’s help,” Deaton said, very calmly. “I doubt that’s the case. The night of the ritual was New Moon. Even if he had a different one planned, the next probable date would be the full moon and there is still time.”

“But we can’t be sure - plus we don’t know what else he’s going to do to her. He might rape her again, just for the fun of it,” Aiden said, barely waiting for the doctor to finish.

“I don’t think Peter does anything just for fun - he’s always scheming. Whatever he needs Lydia for, I don’t think she’s in immediate danger,” Deaton explained dispassionately.

Scott was thinking aloud. “We can’t jump blindly into action. That won’t help Lydia or solve anything. She’s been right about that; we need to look at the information without assuming.” He walked up to the head end of the table and placed a hand on Aiden’s shoulder. “Apart from finding Lydia and figuring out who is behind the killings, we need to figure out who was the woman who shot Ethan and who the other werewolf with her was.”

Stiles scoffed loudly. “Yeah that’s a real mystery right there.”

“What do you mean?” John asked confused.

It was clear that Scott understood what his son meant, John even thought that Deaton seemed to give a slight nod into his direction.

“It’s very simple, Dad. Peter is an alpha again. I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned the first two people he ran into.”

Deaton shook his head. “He planned this in detail, I doubt this time around he left it to chance to turn the right person. If those two belong to Peter’s new pack, then they were chosen for a specific reason.”

“Like being armed to the teeth?” John asked not really sure what criteria a homicidal alpha might choose to turn people into werewolves. “At any rate, I’d like to wait around to get a description of the attackers. While I can’t make a charge stick without there being a bullet hole to show for it, I can have my people look out for them, as well. Who knows, they might lead us to Peter, if your theory about them is correct. You mentioned them being Native American. Has Ethan said anything else about them?”

Stiles shrugged but it was Aiden who spoke. “Ethan was drifting in and out of consciousness, but he mentioned that they were a werewolf couple, that the female one shot him. Not sure if she was Native American though; he also said something about them maybe being Mexican.”

Scratching his head, Stiles interrupted Aiden. “No, he said she was Native American and he was Latino.”

“Maybe,” Aiden crossed his arms defensively.

John could imagine that Aiden was probably more focused on his brother’s injuries then on what he had said. He knew his son was even better than himself at remembering the oddest details in the most stressful situations. Of course maybe Ethan, being shot and poisoned by the wolfsbane, had misremembered something especially given the pain he was in. They still didn’t knew about how it happened; whether he had gotten a good look at the two werewolves or just caught a glimpse of them.

“How long until Ethan will wake up again?” John asked, realising that it was no use to wonder who remembered correctly what was said.

“A couple of hours.” Deaton explained that he had put Ethan under while the wolfsbane was filtered out of his system. By then, he hoped that the healing process would speed up. His best estimate, though, was that it would be a day or two before Ethan would be on his feet again.

“Then maybe I should head back to Lydia’s home and figure out what to write in that report.”

That was one thing John hated already but if he dragged two psychotic werewolves into the limelight that would not end well. Even if his people would be able to make the arrest, proving what happened would likely not be possible without revealing the existence of the werewolves to the justice system and that could endanger Scott, Isaac and all the other werewolves who never harmed anyone.

“That might be a good idea.” Deaton agreed. “Scott, would you mind cleaning up the blood out front? I’ll see what I can do about it in here.”

With a very unhappy expression, Scott nodded and went into a what was probably a supply room.

“I could come with, Dad. I’m kind of especially talented when it comes to cover stories.” Stiles winced almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, likely realising that most of his ‘cover stories’ involved feeding a load of bull to his own father.

John shook his head. “Sorry, I’ll have a hard enough time explaining all this without having to come up with a reason for having you tag along.”

He certainly could use someone to make sense of what he might find. Given that it might look strange to his deputies and they in turn might carry that bit of information unwittingly to the eyes and ears of Agent McCall and his team of investigators. The last thing he needed was Scott’s father investigating what happened tonight at the Martin residence.

Stiles tried to reason with him, offering him reasons like knowing the house better than he did, that he could have shown up on his own to look in on her or even pointing out his amazing rambling abilities that left everyone to confused to make sense of what he just said.

In the end, his son had to concede that keeping the FBI out of this was of vital importance. The feds were anyway way too closely involved.

“Great, so I’ve no excuse not to be on janitor duty, scrubbing alpha intestines off the floor,” Stiles complained as he turned towards Alan. “Hey, that stuff isn’t contagious or anything?”

“I wouldn’t recommend ingesting it,” the doc said and when Stiles gave him an uneasy look, he added. “You should be fine.”

Stiles walked toward the supply room, where Scott was noisily moving a bucket. John saw the occasional glimpse of him looking at different cleaners from a shelf. At the door, his son turned and looked around.

John sighed. “I'd better get going, then.”

He was about to leave the building, with one foot on the outside already, when John heard Aiden reluctantly offering to help with cleaning the room. John shook his head and closed the door behind him. The amount of aggression that came from that boy made him wonder how much safer Lydia was with him. He seemed ready to lash out in anger, Stiles had seen him involved in physical alterations with the other werewolves more than once and it seemed just a matter of time till Lydia might find herself at the end of beating. The violent types never stopped at just beating up others. Him being a werewolf made him just that much more prone to inflict life-threatening damage, especially with a person not being able to heal fast.

John still didn’t buy the “Deucalion made the twins do it” angle. The fact was that they killed their entire pack and the emissary who clearly was no actual threat. All because of a perceived wrong done to them. Aiden easily felt wronged by Lydia. From what he knew about her through Stiles and his own observations, Lydia wasn’t the easiest person to get along with.

John made a mental note to ask how Ethan had gotten to the clinic, as it seemed strange that they would have parked the car elsewhere after dropping him off. Especially since, as far as he knew, the twins owned bikes. On the drive back to the house, he caught up with dispatch about whether there were other reports of significance. Apart from the earlier disturbances, everything was pretty calm. Fear and the curfew coming up kept most people inside their homes, and mostly out of trouble. For now at least, it was working as well as was to be expected. Most people paid attention to the curfew, but such a situation would eventually boil over once people got fed up with being confined all the time.

When he pulled on Muholland Street, John saw that his deputies had strung up the area under the broken wall and window section with police tape. Now that he thought about it, John wondered how the two werewolves had managed to damage the wall like that. Stiles had told him that they were capable of punching through a concrete wall but John still had a hard time believing it. Not because he thought it wasn’t true; it was just something so extraordinary that it would take him a while until these new rules about how reality worked made it into his daily thought processes. Some things needed to be seen and in this case, John knew it would help him adjust faster. Not that he really wanted to witness it. However, closing his eyes and pretending werewolves, ancient gods, and magic were not real was not an option anymore.

John parked the car in the driveway with the other police car standing prominently in front of the home. Looking around, glad to see that the neighbours were not gawkers, he looked for unusual footprints. It seemed whoever had run away from here had worn shoes. That was something. He only hoped that if a neighbour had seen something out of the ordinary, like a big hairy man-shaped wolf taking off into the night, they wouldn’t mention it, because that would bring Agent McCall into this mess and blow it up to a giant clusterfuck.

As he walked into the house, John found the two deputies in the living room, documenting the the chaos there.

“Percy. Miles.” John greeted them with a nod. “What have you found?”

“Most of the house is untouched, although there are some weird scratch marks on the back staircase,” Percy reported. He was loyal to his sheriff, but also a tiny bit too thorough.

“The real damage is in the girl’s room. Friends with your son, am I right?” Miles asked and continued after he saw John nod. “Looks almost like the robbers fought, but I’m slightly worried. we found a girl’s phone upstairs, totally trashed. The neighbours couldn’t tell if anyone was home - there was no tv on and they heard the boy’s motorcycle drive away earlier.”

“Nobody saw anything,” Percy groaned and shook his head in disgust. “Not even the woman who called about the noise.”

“That’s the rich snobs for you,” Miles added. “The home security was not even on. Hadn’t been turned on since last night. Really careless.”

“But you said that nobody but the perpetrators were here?” Percy asked.

John hated lying to his own people, especially since he feared it might all come back to bite him in the ass, but he felt like he had no choice. “Yeah, just them, taking off. I think you might be right; they argued about something and a fight broke out. The newspapers made Miss Martin sound like a rich girl strung out on too many drugs, because of her strange episodes-”

“Yeah, maybe they thought that she was having some prescription drugs and started arguing over it,” Miles clicked his fingers. “That would explain why the damage is most prominent in her room.”

“But the marks on the stairs and walls…” Percy was clearly not convinced.

There was no way to explain this part easily, it would take a bit more to not let this situation get out of hand. Johnn could only hope that Lydia would back him up as soon as they’ve gotten her back.

“Okay, this is strictly between the three of us,” John told them. “There were probably drugs in her room; she’s not taking that many anymore but she still tends to sleepwalk. I know she’s with an old friend, and will remain there there until her parents can get back. I haven’t managed to reach her parents but I prefer for this to stay under wraps. Don’t mention the scratches. Most likely they were made by Miss Martin - again.”

“Ouch, that poor girl,” Miles shook his head slowly. “That attack on her last year got her really messed up, didn’t it?”

John gave an empathetic nod to that. “There is also Agent McCall, if he hears anything about something out of the ordinary, he’ll descent on her like a plague of locusts. She’s has enough problems. I’m not sure what to make of her psychic shtick but …”

As he looked for words, the two deputies, both looked at each other and then turned to him. “Hey, you can count on us,” Miles said.

“Mr. Wonder Fed is butting in on our turf enough at the moment, so what else can this be? You know the girl, John. She’s troubled but okay, right?” Percy asked.

“I’ll inquire gently about her prescription drugs, “John sighed, thinking he would need a moment with Lydia for that first, “but yeah, I’ll stay on this personally. Just in case anything does turn up, you two won’t be on the hook for it.”

Now he was covering up a kidnapping, an assault, and having the police look for the wrong suspects. If someone fired him from his job at this point, it would be probably well deserved. At least for now, he had the situation under control with nobody seeing anything and his deputies were far from getting the full picture.

“Finish up here. I’ll go and take a look upstairs,” he told them and turned towards the stairs.

With a sigh he climbed up the stairs, reaching the damaged door to Lydia’s room with a few strodes. Once he had taken a first look into Lydia’s room, John could only commend the girl for being so calm. With an eerie feeling he entered the room.

The back area near the window was totally trashed. His deputies were right to decide it had been a fight. Someone had been thrown into a large bookcase and the contents were littered over the floor in front of it and the windows. A chair was toppled over on it’s back and plants were also littered among the broken figurines.

Upon closer examination, the destroyed window chilled him even more. He could only hope that the deputies blamed weak construction or just assumed the robbers had brought a sledge hammer. Or something. Tomorrow, John would have to work overtime to clean up this mess.

A quick look into the bathroom showed him the remains of her smartphone which lay shattered on the tiles. John wondered whether it had been Deucalion or Peter who had destroyed it. Without a cell phone Lydia was certainly even more isolated. It also eliminated any hopes of locating her via the GPS. The idea had crossed his mind back at the clinic but he hadn’t been sure of how he’d get a trace without admitting that Lydia had been kidnapped.

He crouched down and looked for the SIM card among the mess of broken cell phone parts. With that gone, he could at least make a case for her having gotten a new model and thus leaving her old one at home. When John finally saw the SIM card, it took him three tries until he had picked it up. Luckily, nobody saw the clumsy attempts made by trembling fingers. Tampering with evidence was the logical conclusion of covering up a crime. Even though he did it with the best intentions, his stomach felt hollow.

After he was done, John switched the light off and closed the door to the bathroom. It was crazy how easy brushing things under the rug became for him. He still didn’t sleep easily at night, though. He had high hopes that would change once they put an end to the killings. Now, worrying about Lydia being caught between two homicidal werewolves would add to his sleep problems. As he walked back downstairs, he had to face the possibility that his sleep would suffer for a long, long time.

Miles and Percy looked at him, having obviously wrapped up since their notebooks were pocketed and they stood around waiting and had talked about how a couple of junkies was the last thing they needed right now. where the two deputies wondered what was going on.

“Would you two mind, calling Ramsey over and make sure he boards up the room without touching anything? I’ll come back tomorrow and see if I can fix up this mess quietly.” He sighed and decided it was time for another lie. “I’m worried that if Lydia is hassled anymore by the feds, it will be our department that catches the wrath of the Martins’ lawyer.”

“Isn’t that the Whitemore guy?” Percy asked, his lips curled in disgust.

John nodded, it was probably not that much of a lie, but it was the least of his problems. He needed to talk with the others again, before he could decide anything more.

“Yeah, we got it covered,” Miles assured him. “It’s not like her parents won’t be happy about her leaving off the alert, that should make their insurance company happy.”

“Thank you, guys.” John gave them an appreciative look.

Given that his son was friends with Lydia, the two deputies did not find John’s straying from proper procedure too strange. It wasn’t like they never made an exception for family and friends. Plus it meant less work for them.

Thanking them again for handling the wrap up, he mentioned that he needed to make sure a certain someone was home before curfew. With that comment he left the house. John went back to his car and when he sat down behind the wheel he had to fight off the shakes. Right in that moment he wouldn’t have said no to a stiff drink.

Instead, he took a couple of deep calming breaths. This was going to be a long night. Depending on what Ethan had to say, and what the mysterious killers were up to, who knew if it might not get even more troubling. If John knew one thing, it was that if something bad happened, it would all happened at the same time.

Before returning to the animal clinic, he decided to drive by Union Street, hoping that it would give him a better chance at understanding what happened once Ethan was awake and ready to talk. Over the radio, Cheryl pointed him to the area with the “Esoteric Books” store and the “Golden Dragon” a Chinese Restaurant one side of the street, and the fashion, jewellery and handicraft stores on the other. Everything was closed and, apart from a couple walking their dog, nothing was out of the ordinary. The little terrier barked fiercely as they passed the bookstore and while John was not able to see the blood from where he sat in his police cruiser, he was sure that was where it was. He nodded to the couple and drove on.

Maybe someone should keep an eye on that store. But without more information the decision if to observe or not to observe, was yet to be made. Besides it was not a job for the department, that would fall to someone who was either a werewolf or knew a great deal about them.

There was nothing left to do here late at night, he told Cheryl that he was taking his son home and later would start with his patrols as planned. The streets were mostly empty and the Sheriff hoped that it would minimize the threat level. There were always people who disregarded curfews and common sense and those would be the most likely target of the next attack.

On the drive he tried to organize what he had seen tonight, knowing it would require him to write two reports, one just for him that needed to be well hidden, then another official one, that would not get him into much trouble. He just hoped answers would come in soon, but news about Lydia would probably have to wait until Monday. Ethan on the other hand might have regained consciousness and could tell him more about what had went down on that street.

Back on the parking lot, John saw that Scott and Stiles had removed all superficial traces of Ethan’s blood. The large stain on the asphalt along with the trail outside was washed away and the reception area was also clean and reeked of bleach. Deaton was sitting unimpressed by the stench behind his desk, sorting through paper work.

“How is the patient?” John asked, hoping the answer would be a positive one.

“Still sleeping but I’m sure he will wake up soon,” Deaton replied looking up from whatever he was working on. “How are things on your end?”

“Does it ever get easier? I mean, when I asked you last year about the bite wounds, you were so convincing when you told me it was a mountain lion.” John shook his head. Deaton had been keeping secret for years, so if anyone knew the answer it had to be him.

“It can become routine,” he replied looking at him before looking at his desk. “Hiding the truth is often necessary with these matters, the difficult part is knowing when to reveal it.”

John had a vague idea what Deaton meant but he was not sure how this applied to himself. He had hoped for a less philosophical reply. In the end, maybe that was the only way to answer his question. Just as he wanted to ask Deaton about what kind of DNA a werewolf would leave on a crime scene, the door from the examination room was pushed open and Stiles walked through it.

“How did it go? Any word yet?”

Apparently his face told his son everything he needed to know so instead of waiting for a reply, he began complaining. “Ethan lost more blood than John McClane in the first Die Hard. I had no idea how hard it is to scrub dried blood of this floor. I had to do most of it, as Scott tended to scrub the floor off with the blood.” Then Stiles went on by pointing out how he had gotten bloodied cleaning water on his jeans, how that was never going to come out.

As they talked they all went back into the examining room, where Ethan now under a warm blanket still slept deeply. Whatever Deaton had given him it worked very well. The room did not smelled as bad, Aiden had obviously opted against using bleach. The air still smelled like hospital but it was more breathable.

John was just mentioning the shattered cell phone, when an unfamiliar ringtone interrupted him.

“That’s mine!” Stiles said surprised.

John knew that his son had set up everyone he knew with a special ringtone: he himself, Scott and his friends all had their own individual songs assigned. Even other acquaintances from school were grouped so that when they called the 21 Jump Street theme song would play. Judging by the look on Stiles’ face as he looked at the display, the number on display was not familiar either.

Accepting the call he kept it to a simple: “Now’s really not the time to try to sell me on a new long distance plan. Thanks but no thanks.”

John knew how upset and worried his son was. Seconds after he had ended his rant, he saw those brown eyes light up with anger. John saw that that both Scott and Aiden were listening probably hearing what the person on the other end said and by the words uttered, John had no doubt that it was Peter Hale.

“You’re really going to preach manners to me while you’re holding someone hostage? That’s a whole new level of cracked you’ve reached, even for a zombiewolf”, Stiles snapped into his cell phone. Then he abruptly stopped breathing rather sharply as he listened to whatever the person at the end of the line said.

“If you dare to hurt her...” he started but was obviously cut short.

“Put him on speaker.” John was mostly mouthing the suggestion. In the middle of his sentence, the smug voice of Peter Hale filled the room.

“... you should know by now, that I’m more powerful than I ever was. It’s about time you start changing your tune, I’ve no intention of humouring you anymore.”

Scott interrupted him: “I don’t care how powerful you’ve become, if you don’t let Lydia go, we’re coming after you.”

“You and who? The non-injured half of the twins?” Peter scoffed.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Aiden said with a slight growl that he wasn’t able to suppress in his anger. John thought it was not the best idea to confront Peter with their suspicions but there was no stopping the alpha. “Those were your betas, you had Ethan shot to lure me away.”

“I’ve no need to lure you away to get to Lydia. If I had, I certainly made sure I’d be there the second you left …” Peter sighed. “But you’re right, those were my betas, you’re lucky I’ve ordered them not to start a feud.”

“Lucky? Ethan nearly died!” Scott interrupted.

“Who do you think dropped him off at the clinic?” Peter asked sounding as condescending as ever. “My betas didn’t start the fight - but given the outcome of them being surprise attacked by an alpha, you wouldn’t want them on the warpath.”

It was another very thinly veiled threat. While John was not really feeling like he had a good grasp on all the werewolf stuff from what Stiles had told him, betas usually did not fare too well against alphas. A sneak attack might even the odds and that seemed more likely than Peter’s pack being the ones who were attacked. John hoped that Scott would knew that but he asked aloud anyway. “Why should we believe you?”

“Because it is not me you’ve to worry about,” the reply came fast and very assured. “You’ve invited something powerful and undead to Beacon Hills, it’s killing people and it will kill even more as it grows stronger with each kill. Your idiotic alpha twin left the only person who has a chance of even figuring out what it is all by herself.”

Aiden uttered a disapproving growl but even that could not distract John from how angry Peter sounded. He realised that he still had not asked about what Peter had meant by inviting this thing to the town. As far as he knew it was Jennifer’s sacrificing to the Nemeton that was the source of attracting other beings to Beacon Hills.

“Don’t tell us you actually care about stopping those killings,” Scott said bitterly.

“No, of course not, why would I care that we got the FBI in town? That it is just a question of time until more hunters come into town who mostly likely cut you and all the other werewolves in half, before they even glimpse at what’s truly going on. I don’t care about that at all.”

Sarcasm aside, Peter was making a convincing argument. They looked at each other and realised that Peter did not need to care about people dying to have a reason to want to stop the killings.

“What about Lydia? Is she okay? What did you do to her?” Stiles’ worried voice made his father feel so bad for the situation he had helped to create.

“Apart from Deucalion choking her when he assaulted her in the bathroom, I think she’s doing fine. But don’t worry, she’s way stronger than any of you give her credit for.”

“Let us talk to her,” Scott said with his best attempt at a serious authorial voice.

“Eventually,” Peter sounded amused. “First, I want to emphasize what a colossal waste of time and energy it would be to try and find me. Because you won’t, you could walk right past this building and wouldn’t see this place. With what’s out there - this is the safest place Lydia could be.”

“Don’t worry we will find you - eventually,” Scott was stating firmly.

“I’m not so sure,” Deaton spoke up again. “I’ve heard there are ways to protect your home from the eyes of the enemy. Ways witches know more about than druids.”

“Ah the emissary straight out of retirement,” Peter said with an icy tone. “I hope he gives Scott better advice than he gave to my nephew. I wonder what matters more to the good doc: Stopping the killings or keeping his true alpha safe?”

John saw how Scott seemed to brood a bit on that. It seemed nobody really understood what Deaton’s goal was, however nobody wanted to give Peter’s words much credence and eventually Scott replied that the best advice was lost on someone who was not listening.

“Too true,” Peter agreed with glee. “But I’ve hopes you might overcome that deficit eventually, Scott.”

A moment of silence spread, that was not quite the reply they had expected and neither Scott nor the others had anything to say, with the exception of Stiles who added after the first few moments: “Let us talk to Lydia, then we’ll see about not skinning your hide when we’ll find you.”

“Oh very well, I’m growing tired of this conversation. Waste your time looking for me or running around aimlessly in the woods.” Then a mere second later, Lydia was on the phone. John knew she had to be sitting next to Peter. The question was just for how long and why she had not said anything. “Hey, how is Ethan doing?”

“He’ll recover in a day or two,” Aiden ensured her eagerly. “Then we’ll come looking for you!”

“I really wish you wouldn’t,” she said her voice filled with worry and something John could not quite pin down.

“Don’t worry about us, Lydia,” Scott said reassuringly. “We’re not going to abandon you.”

“That’s good to know - but I think you’re forgetting about something - two undead somethings to be precise. Both are roaming around Beacon Hills killing off people.”

John was impressed how calm Lydia remained and also slightly surprised that she would care more about others than her own safety. Stiles had mentioned how she had ignored him all those years and she certainly had been the school’s top socialite before Peter had bitten her. She continued almost with a hint of annoyance. “I know I can figure out what one of these things is. Like it or not, it makes sense to do that right here with Peter’s help.”

“Lydia, you can’t mean that, can you? Is he making you say that?” Stiles asked concerned.

“It’s a logical conclusion, if you actually paid attention to the facts and not let your personal bias make your decisions for you, then you’d see that,” Lydia said sounding very passionate and a bit offended. “If you want to do something for me, convince your father not to get my parents involved. Beacon Hills is not safe for them, Deucalion or whatever else is out there might see them as a target. I’ll call you once I’ve discovered something helpful.”

Then the line went dead. They all looked at each other, it was clear that they were just as uncertain about what to make of Lydia’s words. He had to admit that logic was on her side. With the events that nearly had cost his life and that of Allison’s father and Scott’s mother he understood her worries. At the same time it was his duty to inform them that something had happened to her house.

“Come on, guys, we know he’s making her say this,” Stiles insisted.

“Is she?” Aiden said icily. “She is not exactly uncomfortable around him. Her tone revealed not the slightest hint of fear. Lydia clearly wants to stay with him.”

John noticed how the twin’s hands clinched to fists. An alpha motivated by jealousy was disturbing, especially given that Lydia seemed to make just the best out of this situation. He hoped that defending her from Aiden would not be Scott’s next task.

“Aiden is right, she wasn’t afraid. I think we need to trust her on this - besides she is right, we got bigger problems.” Stiles raised his voice in protest but Scott interrupted him and continued. “If she does not call us soon, we will look for her.”

It was clear his son hated the situation more than anyone else. John knew that in the worst case scenario he’d end up having to explain to Lydia’s parents why he did not tell them she was in peril or the opposite. If the second option happened that was certainly something that might drive her further away room her friends. Adding all the possible risks to his men and their inability to actually help getting Lydia back, he decided for now it was best to keep them in the dark.


	18. No time wasted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter takes Lydia back to his apartment ...
> 
> _“Seriously, this wasn’t how I hoped for you to meet Rubèn and Naira.”_  
>  _“Who are they?”_  
>  _“My new pack ..” he said with pride._  
>  _The answer was not a real surprise. Being an alpha again, it was to be expected that he would turn people. What she had not counted on was him starting so soon. It had barely been a week._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-read but I did my best to make it readable (hopefully). I try to stick to an update at the middle and the beginning of each month.

They didn’t had to go too far. While Lydia was looking for the Jeep, Peter stopped suddenly next to a black Jaguar convertible. Even though the top was up, she recognized it right away. While she was not sure about the model, she was sort of impressed. It looked more stylish than Jackson’s Porsche.

“What happened to the Jeep?” Lydia asked as he unlocked the doors.

Putting her bag in the trunk, Peter stepped around the car towards the driver’s seat. “That’s just for cross-country drives.”

After Lydia opened her door, Peter did the same. As she saw no use in making a scene she got in the car. It looked rather tidy and almost new but the smell that came with new cars was long gone. She almost asked more but then decided against it: why should what car he drove and how long matter to her?

Peter started the Jaguar and drove off towards downtown, not saying anything else either. At the first traffic light stop, he did turn around and looked again at her neck.

“What?” she asked confused.

The last time she had checked there was nothing. It was not like it didn’t hurt but compared to how it had felt after Jennifer had tried to strangle her this was nothing. Which was not surprising, considering the string had cut deep enough to cut off the oxygen to her brain for a moment, while Deucalion had just been holding her in place.

“You can’t see anything - but I can see the imprint of his hand,” Peter stated sounding a bit upset, after a moment he added: “It just irks me.”

“Oh really?” Lydia shot back. “It irks you? Well, imagine how I feel!”

He sighed. “I’d never left you under their protection, if I had known what a rotten job they’d do.”

Somehow Lydia had the feeling Peter had just brought it up to remind her again, that this wouldn’t have happened if Aiden hadn’t left her alone. His strategy did not pay off, if anyone was to blame it was Peter and Deucalion: Because without Peter’s ritual Deucalion would never have gone after her or at least not tried to rape her. Yet, whatever Peter had done, Deucalion still could have decided not behave like a raging psychopath.

Lydia felt a shiver run over her back and goosebumps appear on her arms. She was angry and not just at Peter. She had been careless. Aiden wouldn’t have left her alone if she hadn’t encouraged him. Lydia had only done that because she had wanted to talk to Peter without having to worry that anyone was going to interrupt them. Maybe Lydia was a little bit mad at her friends for not letting her talk to Peter but she did understand their concerns to a degree. It was an overall infuriating situation.

Strangely, Lydia was glad that it was basically over. By going with Peter she could finally focus on her dreams to get to the bottom of this crisis.

“I want to figure out who that thing in the crypt actually is,” she explained and deliberately added in a deprecative way, “so I can go back to my life without needing a constant watch dog on my door step.”

“I admire your resilience but even if we eliminate that threat - there’s still Deucalion to content with,” Peter reminded her.

Lydia had the feeling he was almost glad that Deucalion was out there. It was probably the actual reason why Peter had not killed him. At least it was one very likely reason. She began to understand that Peter’s reason for doing things could be fairly complex. In this case, he knew Lydia would need protection from Deucalion. Certainly hoping that eventually he could step up to that position. The real question was what would happen when Deucalion was the only threat left. She might be wrong but she would not put it past Peter to hoped that she might actually ask him to kill Deucalion. That would be the logical choice, not that she could imagine herself resorting to that. Which then might mean she needed someone to look after her and in Peter’s mind that might be him as well. “How about we focus on one problem at a time?” Lydia took a deep breath. “At least Deucalion needs to actually show up to harm me.”

Peter nodded. “That’s true. Also, I doubt that apart from that attempt today, Deucalion is not going to be stupid enough to actually kill people. He doesn’t want to get on Scott’s bad side. Which I can relate to.”

“As if you would have had a problem killing Deucalion,” Lydia replied rolling her eyes. “Besides what he really wants is his powers back.” She was certain that Peter could relate to that even better.

With a smile, Peter listened to her words. Once or twice, he glanced at her but mainly he was focused on the street. It reminded Lydia that she had stopped paying attention to where they were driving. Looking out the window she tried to find a street name but instead ending up memorising the Starbucks and the building next to it.

“He isn’t going to get his powers back, at least not without your willing support. Frankly, we both know that you and almost everyone else is better off with me having those powers.”

Lydia wasn’t sure if she wanted to concede that point to him, but Peter did at least seem to be the slightly better alternative. Before she had a chance to say something, he stopped at another red light and turned to her. “Besides, I have the feeling, if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t enjoy yourself nearly as much. In fact, I think it might be the single most unpleasant experience you’ll ever have. Probably the last one too.”

Lydia swallowed hard. She remembered all too well how Deucalion had threatened her, his fingers closing around her throat and those ice-cold eyes staring at her filled with hate. He certainly would have enjoyed hurting her. Deucalion was unable to get back at Peter, therefore he would have made Lydia pay for Peter’s sins.

“Heh,” Peter said as he gently touched her chin and lifted it up. “It’s not going to happen, I won’t let it. As long as you are with me, you’ll be safe.”

“Funny,” Lydia replied with a bitter tone which caused him to remove his finger. “If not for you, I wouldn’t be in danger in the first place. Deucalion would be happily psychotic somewhere else, even Miss Blake would have not tried to strangle me if it wasn’t for my prophetic doodlings. Which I might point out, I’m only doing since you tore me up and left me on an icy cold lacrosse field to die. Not to mention the part where you nearly drove me insane and then drugged and .. forced me into this absurd sex ritual. So safe and you is not exactly a combination that comes into mind.”

Her throat ached after her long rant. While Peter had driven on after the light turned green again, he listened to her getting all out. He certainly didn’t look amused anymore. It took him a while before he had thought up a reply. Lydia was not surprised that he would try and prepared herself for some excuses. “I know, I’ve used you and you’ve every reason to hate and avoid me. Believe me, that’s why I stayed away. But you know, that despite what you might feel, you will be safe with me.”

Looking out of the window, not fully concentrating on it but loosely taking in the landmarks, Lydia let out a deep breath. However mad she was at him for the things he did, the truly awful thing was not just that her logical side told her that given a small margin of error she was reasonably safe with him. What really upset her was the fact how safe she had felt that night when he had invited himself into her bed. It had been ages since she had slept so well and she had been so content laying in his arms. Lydia shook her head at the thought, it was so unreal.

“As long as I’m useful to you, I’ve no doubt about that.”

Being antagonistic seemed like the right approach, although she was doubtful how well she could keep it up. Unlike the others, she neither had the will or energy to dislike Peter. After all there were things about him she did like and with her dating history she could hardly claim that him having left a trail of torn up bodies was an actual deterrent. If the twins could claim past abuse as an excuse for murdering their own pack that same reasoning should also apply to Peter. After all he had only killed those who had actually helped murder his family. While Ethan and Aiden in their joint form had gone as far as tearing out their emissaries throat. Neither of them even tried to claim she had been involved with the abuse.

“So then you are permanently safe, as I can’t imagine a smart and beautiful banshee ever not be useful,” he smiled and looked over to her a bit longer than usual.

With a scoff, she peered out of the window focusing more on where they were going. A sign read Spring Lane and that seemed almost funny given that spring had just started. When it went out of sight, she decided to ask how far away they were.

“Oh, not far, but if you hope to remember the location of my apartment - it won’t work,” he explained with his usual amount of smugness. “It’s protected by a spell - no one who means me harm can find it.”

“A spell?” she said with a raised eyebrow.

He laughed softly. “I told you the apartment is owned by a witch. Whoever resides in it for some time, falls under that protection.”

“How convenient for you.”

“It could be convenient for you as well,” he smiled at her as he took a turn. “See and here we are.”

The street did not seem familiar but that night she had been thinking about other things and not really paid attention to where she had come from. Curiosity got the better of her and she just had to ask him. “How long would I need to stay at your place until I was protected as well?”

“A couple of weeks?” he suggested with very innocent sounding voice.

This time it was her who was laughing. “How about we figure this out and have me moving back to my house before spring break ends?”

“Yeah, how about that?”

The car pulled into the underground parking garage and Lydia was looking forward to move her legs her again. She was not even going to bother with his snarky remark. But once he finally had parked and opened his door, she saw him become tense and sniffing. Clearly something was wrong.

“Who is it?” she asked worried.

“Hmm, I assume when you fetched the crystal from Yoon the twins were with you?” he asked.

“Yes, sort of, Ethan followed me into the store.”

Wondering why Peter brought that up, whether the twins might have found them. After all, weren’t werewolves supposed to be able to heal from gunshot wounds?

“I guess, Ethan probably decided to have second look without you.” The look he gave her clearly showed that he was somewhat displeased with the situation, like it was something foreseeable and dumb.

“You know who shot him, don’t you?” She said and hoped it was not Yoon.

Instead of an answer Peter got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Lydia unfastened her seatbelt and quickly did the same. Walking around the car, prepared to demand an answer. Only he had walked on to an really old crummy looking four-wheeler. The back was covered by a tarp but the co-driver door had blood on it. There were sprinkles on the floor as well. Someone had tried to clean it up but some smears remained.

“Is that Ethan’s blood?” Her voice almost failed her.

Shaking his head, Peter turned to her. “No, that would be Rubèn’s blood. There is however blood from another wolf under that tarp covering the rear.”

“Who is Rubèn? And why is he bleeding when Ethan is the one who got shot? Where’s Ethan?”

Lydia frowned, the way Peter had phrased it, it was only his blood in the back, not his body. She felt somewhat sick in her stomach, fearing that Ethan might be dead. Then it occurred to her that someone must have driven the car. Maybe some who dropped transported his body somewhere and then came back here with this Rubèn.

“Good questions, let’s find out”, Peter said and walked over to the trunk of his Jaguar. With her bag in hand he let her up to his apartment. On the way he added. “Seriously, this wasn’t how I hoped for you to meet Rubèn and Naira.”

Lydia was getting a strange feeling. “Who are they?”

“My new pack.” Peter said with pride.

The answer wasn’t a real surprise. Being an alpha again, it was to be expected that Peter would turn people. What Lydia hadn’t counted on was him starting so soon. It had barely been a week.

“You don’t waste much time, do you?” She remarked as they walked down the corridor.

He have her knowing smile. “You know how I like to plan ahead.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. Peter had been the one who had come up with an emergency resurrection plan just in case he got killed. She shuddered to think how much planning he had done in the past months. Maybe even since before the Alpha pack and dark druid problem had been resolved. She watched how he unlocked the door to his place and held it open.

As Lydia stepped into the apartment she braced herself for whatever dangerous, possible unhinged pack members were waiting inside. Instead she saw a tall Latino man lying bleeding on the couch. There were huge gashes on his chest, probably from a fight with Ethan, she thought. Next to him kneeled a Native American woman with a very worried expression.

Lydia barely noticed Peter shutting the door behind her, her gaze was mostly fixed on that horrible looking wound. A normal person would be dead by now and the man who had to be Rubèn didn’t seem to do very well. His shirt hung by his side, half torn and half undone. Naira had placed a wet towel on his head and it also looked like she had cleaned the wounds.

“Naira, what did I tell you about fighting with the other werewolves in town?”

Lydia felt Peter pushing past and saw how Naira rose to her feet. There was another emotion besides concern for her companion on Naira’s face: guilt. Placing her overnight bag on the chair by the dinner table, curiosity got the better of Lydia and she followed Peter within a few steps.

“We didn’t start the fighting!” Naira’s voice trembled a bit but not with anger.

It was clear that they had to be behind Ethan getting shot. Still, Lydia found it hard to outright hate the woman given how worried she was about her companion. Also knowing the twins’ tendency to starts fights and engage in often unnecessary violence made her want to know what happened first.

What she saw looked by no means one sided. Naira’s thin white blouse was stained with blood in a way that made it seem as if it had soaked through another item of clothing she had worn on top of it. That was a lot of blood.

Peter moved his head as if he was sceptical about her assurance on who started the fight. “Don’t worry, he is going to make it,” he said after looking closer at the wounded beta on the couch. “By the way, this is Lydia. Lydia meet Naira and bleeding over here is Rubèn.”

“Hi,” Rubèn said weakly as he raised his hand for a little wave. Only to flinch in pain. Naira nodded shortly but was too preoccupied with her concern for Rubèn. “He’s barely healing.”

Laying a calming hand on her shoulder, Peter explained. “That’s because those wound were made by an alpha.”

“I told her,” Rubèn added with a sigh. “She’s just overprotective.”

Peter clearly was thinking about something else and knowing that nobody’s life here was in danger, Lydia just had to ask. “What happened?”

Naira looked at her then to Peter. “He got the book from Yoon, when this other werewolf showed up. She said the store was closed, he argued with Rubèn, than he started to shove, Rubèn shoved back. By the time I got out of the car ..”

Ruben sighed. “He had started slashing me up”.

“So you shot him,” Peter finished the tale.

Seeing the look on the woman’s face made Lydia’s heart drop for a moment. She had to remember that werewolves didn’t necessarily die from gun shots as easily as humans, especially not if they were alphas. That still begged the question what Ethan’s blood was doing on the rear of their Jeep.

Naira crouched down next to Rubèn running her fingers through his hair. “Yes, it was surprisingly effective. However, Yoon made me take him to the animal clinic. I put him in the back, helped Ruben into the Jeep and then dropped him off there.”

Lydia let out a sigh of relief. Deaton would know what to do, he had fixed the twins up before.

“Good,” Peter said sounding a bit angry. “The last thing we need right now is a blood feud.”

“What was that guy doing there anyway?” Rubèn asked.

It was obvious he was in great pain and Lydia hated to think that their account of what happened was true. She could not imagine Ethan lashing out at someone just for a simple shove. Ethan had seemed to be determined to avoid unnecessary violence.

“He was there earlier watching over Lydia. Probably smelled something,” Peter shrugged it off. “Let me get you something to speed up the healing process. On second thought, why don’t we get him into the guest bedroom first?”

While Naira’s face lit up, Lydia felt herself frown. “And where am I going to sleep?”

Peter smirked. “Well, in my bed of course.” Just as she wanted to protest, he added. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay out here on the couch. Awaiting the results of your dream quest.”

Pouting she crossed her arms. She did not like the thought of sleeping in his bed, even if he stayed out on the couch: which Peter had to or else she wouldn’t be able to enter into dream with the thing from the crypt. It was the fact that Peter changed the terms that easily. She had counted on having her own space. Instead she was now shoved into his private space and it made her feel uneasy.

Part of her even went as far and wondered if Peter had planned all of this: luring Ethan back to the bookstore, sending his betas there, knowing that Aiden would rush out to see to his injured twin. Only that it made no sense for him to come too late to her house.Furthermore, if those three acted they were rather brilliant at it because it felt real.

Either way it would not change her current situation. For everyone else the situation was settled anyway.

Peter went over to a drawer in one of the many corners of the large living loom. Naira helped Rubèn up, he had troubles leaning on her, as she was a bit taller than he was. With a shrug Lydia went over and offered to help. Rubèn leaned on her while Naira supported him now by holding his arm. His chest started to bleed a bit more and a few droplets fell on the carpet. Lydia saw they were not the first ones.

Moaning in pain, Rubèn grinded his teeth together. He tried his best to walk but Lydia felt his weight resting on her shoulders. The smell of his blood was so strong in her nose that she began to feel a bit nauseous. Luckily, the couch was not far from the guest room. Naira reached out to open the door. Determined they walked on and as they passed the door Lydia fumbled around until she found the light switch.

They walked him over to the bed but before he could lie down Naira told him to wait a second and removed the remains of his shirt. Afterwards he sunk down guided by the two of them. He clearly was glad to be able to lie still again. The bed was longer and wider than the couch so he rested far more comfortably.

“Thank you,” Naira told her as she made him more comfortable. “Sorry, about shooting your,” she paused a moment, “friend -boyfriend?”

“Oh, I don’t have a … in any case that is the other one” Lydia replied a bit confused about Naira knowing about her connection with the twins.

As she thought about it, she realised that it made sense that Peter told them about the other werewolves. From their exchange it made sense that they figured out that the alpha they had dealt with was one of the twins. Which was kind of hard to tell if you did not saw them together. They probably also had a rough idea to stay away from the Argents.

“So Peter, turned the two of you, a few days ago?” she decided to ask regardless of whether Peter could hear her in the other room. It sounded anyway that he had gone into that part that became the kitchen.

“Not me,” Rubèn said trying to smile, “I’m a born werewolf.”

“Yeah, he was all on his own, at least till he met me a couple of years ago. When Peter said he was going to regain his alpha powers, he offered Rubèn a place in his pack and to give me the bite.”

Naira sounded very happy with the arrangement despite all that had happened. It was obvious that those two were an item. In a way it made sense that she wanted to be like Rubèn. Lydia wondered if Naira had known the risk.

“But couldn’t that have killed you?” Lydia asked curiously.

“Yes, it might have,” Peter said from the door. “But to some it’s worth the risk.”

Taking Rubèn’s hand Naira smiled with so much love at her partner. “Saying no to the bite never even occurred to me. The whole prospect of being even closer to him, was all the reason I needed.”

Strangely enough seeing those two being so affectionate, him looking at her with a smile despite the pain he was in, Lydia had to think of Ethan and Danny. Wondering if Danny knew, whether he would eventually on his own want to become a werewolf just to be even closer to Ethan as well. Maybe that was the way to go about it, Lydia wondered.

Carrying a bowl with some strange looking powder Peter had approached the bed while her question had been answered. He put the bowl on the nightstand and sat down. “This should help to speed up the healing process.”

They both watched as he took some of the substance between his fingers and let it snow into an open gash. Ruben groaned in pain.

“Oh yes,” Peter explained, “I almost forgot - that tends to hurt.”

“At least the wounds have not closed yet,” the bleeding beta added.

Naira looked sceptical as she held his hand more tightly. “Why is that?

Going on with the treatment by pouring more of the pulver into the gashes, Peter calmly answered the question completely unfazed by Rubèn gritting his teeth together. “The wounds heal on the outside first. While they might eventually heal on their own on the inside, this way the herbs can still do their magic on the inside. If they wounds are already closed,” Peter shrugged while trickling the last of it over the open wounds. “they either need to be reopened or it has to be made into an ointment which is also less effective. There - that should do the trick.”

Lydia felt a bit out of place standing by the door and looking at the three werewolves. There was something almost unnatural about the scene but she was not sure why she felt this way. Maybe it was the fact that those two actually seemed to like Peter. Making her wonder what they knew about him, what he had told them about the others and especially her. After all, for some reason Naira was aware that there was something going on between her and one of the twins. It begged the question whether the boyfriend was her assumption of if Peter had described him as such.

“Shouldn’t we dress the wound?” Naira asked finally.

“It will heal and since I doubt you want to sleep on top of him while they are still open, it would be useless. They will close within the next two hours.”

“Maybe I should take care of the mess we made until then,” she said and let go of Rubèn’s hand.

Peter shook his head. “That can wait, I’ll go back to the garage and take care of the blood in the car.”

With that he took the bowl and got up from the bed. Lydia used the chance and left the room ahead of him giving a passing nod at the other two werewolves. Before leaving the room Peter turned around and suggested that Naira should get rid of the bloody clothes and take a shower. “Might not be the worst idea for you as well,” he told her as he closed the door on the guest room.

Lydia sighed, after that encounter by the shower with Deucalion that was like the last thing on her mind. But she did felt sweaty and dirty. “Maybe I could take a bath?”

The way Peter’s face lit up made her regret that comment for a moment. But she quickly recovered and added. “By myself and before that I like to call the clinic to ask about how Ethan is doing.”

“Counter proposal - you take the bath now, I go and take care of the car, when we’re both finished we call the clinic or one of your friends. It’s too soon right now.”

“Too soon for what?” Lydia felt he was agreeing to her calling mostly for his own reasons. She was convinced that if he could he would make sure she was entirely cut off from her friends. While it might do some good to have a bit of distance as long as this threat was still going on, she was not okay with that happening.

“Find out how Ethan is doing. I’m sure he pull through but give the doc a bit time to work on him.”

“Oh,” she said but still felt this was not everything. Then it occurred to her. “You want to know what the Sheriff has done about all of this. You want me to call Stiles.”

“So smart,” Peter said with a proud smile as he took a step closer to her. Then he seemed to decide differently and just said: “Well, you know where the bathroom is.”

“Yeah,” Lydia replied and picked up her overnight bag. From the corner of her eye she saw Peter picking up something from one of the kitchen cupboards and then he left the apartment. Pausing for a moment at the bathroom door she listened whether he would lock them in but she did not hear anything.

Deciding it was best to get this over quickly, she strode to the bathroom and let hot water into the tub. Then she locked the door to the living room and opened the other door that lead into the bedroom. Her bag still in hand she stepped inside looking for the light switch. Lydia was not sure what she had expected but she was sure that it was not such a normal looking room.

Then again, not too normal, as it seemed a bit like taken out of a catalogue. There was really nothing here to make it personal. It was all function, with a huge impressive king-sized bed, a sleek wall of sliding doors made of frosted glass and one trunk at the foot of the bed. She wondered how much of this design belonged to the witch and what of this was actually Peter’s design. The spartan appearance really put the emphasis on the bed.

Lydia shrugged of her feeling of unease and decided to make herself at home. Putting her bag on the bed, she opened it and got out what belonged into the bathroom. She took out her nightgown: a black one that was the least revealing she had found under the pressure of packing quickly. It had this wide lace part over her waist almost up to her breasts, but made up for it by being bottom long and having these long silky trumpet arms.

As she thought about it, she had not worn in over a year, as the lace part was directly where the gashes in her side were. While those had faded to thin white lines, she had not worn it, fearing it might shown them even though the dark pattern. Throwing it on the bed, she took out what else she needed and put the bag down on the floor.

Then she made her way back into bathroom, to check on the water but also to brush her hair. She had washed it so often or at least gotten it wet in the past days, that she decided to pin it up. It was not easy with the utensils she had brought along but by the time the tub was full and at the right temperature, she was done.

She looked for towels. Lydia remembered that Peter had not brought them in from the bedroom the last time, so she figured they were somewhere else. There were just two towels near the wash basin and a bathrobe where he had hung that dress he had given her. That had to be enough, if he came back earlier she could always sent him out for towels. It was not like he would have a problem bursting in through the door.

Lydia briefly thought about locking both doors but the thought of Peter coming in was not really bothering her enough. While she doubted that Naira would come looking for her it still felt right to have the door going to the living room locked. Who knows maybe the female beta would go looking for towels as well. Then again maybe she should have asked her, as Naira obviously had the keys to the place.

With the tub of water looking so inviting, she got rid of her clothes and then stepped inside the water. Near the tub were some cosmetic products, liquid soap, a sponge and some pricey looking sandalwood bath oil. While it was not exactly her fragrance, she put a few drops of it in the water. If this took longer, they would need to get a few things for her.

Soaking in the tub with just her head out of the water, she tried to relax. It was almost impossible though. Peter’s apartment was not exactly the place that made her feel comfortable. Her thoughts drifted over to Rubèn and Naira. Their presence didn’t threaten her but it made her wonder about Ethan, she felt like she sort of had brought him into this situation.

It didn’t made it better that the whole conflict had started for no good reason. If Ethan was indeed the one who had struck the first blow, it was certainly because the whole situation was so frustrating. Lydia shouldn’t feel guilty about that, but she felt that she had made things more difficult. No matter how hard she tried to relax she only grew more restless.

When she kept her eyes open, she remembered the last time she had been in here and the way she felt around Peter. Then when she closed them this slight pang on her lip and the pain in her throat brought back the recent memories of Deucalion attacking her. So she stared at the ceiling trying to think of something distracting but somehow that came around to one topic.

The doorknob being turned startled her and she splashed the water around her.

“Everything alright?” Peter asked from behind the door.

“I’m missing towels,” she replied sharply.

Lydia found she was actually glad to hear his voice. It was so bizarre that after the twins had found out, she could barely be in the same room with them, but after this evening’s assault she was actually glad to have Peter around. She wouldn’t go as far as to say she did feel safe with him, but certainly his presence had an uncanny calming effect on her.

“I thought you might not find them,” he told her, “but since you locked the door ..:”

Lydia interrupted him. “Only this one.”

She didn’t had to wait long until Peter found his way through the other door with two fluffy, white towels. Sitting with her back to the second door, she found herself turning back at this awkward angle.

“You know it might be advisable to sit facing the door you didn’t lock,” he suggested almost casually.

It reminded her of those movies where the spies and assassins would always chose places that allowed them to observe her surroundings. Which was not exactly paranoid behaviour on part of the spies, as it wasn’t in her case either as someone was actually after her. Yet, it still seemed like a dreadful way to live: constantly expecting an attack.

Leaning back Lydia shrugged with her shoulders. “What for?”

“To be alert - in case someone non-friendly comes through the door.”

With a disbelieving laughter, she replied. “Yeah, because seeing Deucalion or whatever thing killed those people a few seconds earlier is going to make such a difference to me. Besides isn’t this place magically protected?”

Coming a bit closer, Peter then stopped at the wash basin: “Yes, it was more a general suggestion given that it made little sense to lock the door.”

“Force of habit,” Lydia replied not feeling in the mood to explain her reasons in detail. “Thanks for the towels but I can take it from here.”

Waiting for a comment, another request or even a touch she eventually turned her head back and found that the bathroom was empty. The unlocked door was not fully closed. Lydia got out of the tub hoping that Peter would not change his mind. While the water slurped into the drain, she pushed the door shut and locked it as well. Dripping water to the floor she finally reached for the towels and began drying herself off. Then she took her time using the body lotion she brought. There was no reason to let her skin get any more tense, she had been bad at taking care of herself lately anyway. Maybe it was a side effect from her being a banshee given that her face looked still flawless despite not peeling herself in two weeks.

The whole exercise gave her the opportunity to think a bit more about her situation. The most important thing that occurred to her was to remind herself that kidnapping her to keep her safe was more than just an excuse. It did not make Peter’s actions okay but Lydia had to stay under someone’s watchful eye at all times anyway.

Peter was the only one who was aware of just how dangerous that thing from her dreams was. There was the fact that he could keep her safe from it in ways that her friends could not. While Deucalion was only a problem because of Peter, he still would easily keep her safe from him. Unlike the twins she need not fear that Deucalion could manipulate Peter into trusting him or at least doubting her.

As for someone protecting her from Peter, she had been under worse duress from him without anyone helping. Whatever else Peter might want from her aside from figuring out who was behind the killings was going to involve teaching her more about her abilities. That was something that wouldn’t happen with the twins or Scott and Stiles around. Lydia wanted to know more about what she was capable off, there had been enough surprises related to her being a banshee already.

The towel wrapped around her, Lydia finally unlocked the door to the bedroom again, finding that room empty as well. Beside her nightgown on the bed lay a long black satin morning robe. Lydia briefly wondered if he had bought this one as well for her but it might as well be a leftover from the previous owner of the apartment. Given the time she would spend with Peter, Lydia was determined to find out more about the witch who had left this place to him.

Dressed in her nightgown and the black robe, she went out to the living room a couple of minutes later. Peter was sitting on the couch, the small table in front of him was occupied by a laptop, next to it lay an old book and a hand scanner. He looked up at her with a subtle smile on his face. “How about we make that phone call?”

“To Stiles?” she asked and came closer.

He nodded and now she saw a cell phone lying between the laptop and the book. Lydia had actually for a moment forgotten about Ethan, being so preoccupied with her determination to make the best out of this situation.

“You want the number?” As she spoke she noticed that her voice was still a bit strained.

“You know it without your phone?” Peter said as he reached for it.

“I‘ve got a pretty good memory.” Technically she had never really bothered to remember her numbers but she was pretty confident she could recall most of them. Stiles’ number came to her quite quickly.

“Well, that is good to know - but I actually have his number.”

That surprised her a bit, then again it was not like the number was unlisted and maybe Peter had acquired all their numbers at some point. He certainly like to be in the know. Whatever he had prepared since she had last seen him before this mess started, Lydia had no doubt he had been thorough. If Peter had come up with a back up plan while being pre-occupied with his revenge scheme amidst Derek’s abduction by Allison’s crazy aunt, whatever he had set up now was certainly much more thought out.

“Mind if I make myself a tea?”

“My kitchen is your kitchen,” he said and then told her where the tea and the mugs were. “I’m afraid so my tea selection is not as fancy as yours.”

Lydia shrugged. “I’ll find something. Why don’t you go ahead and call Stiles - find out what you need to.”

The look he gave her was interesting. Peter was probably wondering what was going on, given that she had been rather keen on this call earlier. If possible she would keep him guessing about her motives a while longer. As she took the water boiler and set up it, she heard him dial already.

Leaning back on the couch, Peter listened to either a long voice mail or Stiles’ rambling on.

“That’s an interesting way to start a conversation, Stiles. Whatever happened to basic manners?”

Peter was clearly amused and she heard his faint laughter as he listened to the reply. Then with an exaggerated eye-roll he continued. “Hostage would imply that I’m making demands on you.” He looked at her almost boastful. “I’ve everything I want right here.”

While she prepared her mug with a bag of peppermint tea, she was not sure whether to feel flattered or threatened. Lately, when she was in doubt of her emotions she decided to go for both.

“I’ve no intention of harming her, it’s quite the opposite. But if I wanted to,” Peter smiled smugly which Lydia could see as he was still looking at her, “your impotent threats wouldn’t impress me. If you paid attention you should know by now, that I’m more powerful than I ever was. It’s about time you start changing your tune, I’ve no intention of humouring you anymore.”

Feeling threatened was probably the more reasonable response. With the water ready, she poured it into the cup and added some sugar before joining Peter on the couch, just after he asked with a scoff. “You and who? The non-injured half of the twins?”

There was a longer pause and she almost wanted to ask Peter to put the conversation on speaker. Instead, she made herself comfortable on the couch and noticeable perplexed him by leaning against his side. It might have been the burning hot tea water inside the mug in her hand, but he didn’t move. With a brief pause he continued with the phone conversation.

“I’ve no need to lure you away to get to her. If I had, I certainly made sure I’d be there the second you left …” he sighed and gave her a strange look. “But you’re right, those were my betas, you’re lucky I’ve ordered them not to start a feud.”

It didn’t surprise Lydia that Stiles had figured out that Peter’s betas had been involved. However, it still didn’t answer her concerns about who actually started the fight. Lydia knew Peter would stick to the version she had heard, even though he did seemed somewhat rattled. Not that it threw him off very much.

“Who do you think dropped him off at the clinic? My betas didn’t start the fight.” She smiled, knowing she had been right but also because she could imagine that her reaction would leave him wondering. Not that it stopped him from being as condescending as ever when he was on top. “But given the outcome of them being surprise attacked by an alpha, you wouldn’t want them on the warpath.”

As the mug grew heavy in her hand she decided to put it down but farther away from the computer which made her stretch to the side. The mug clanked a bit as Peter’s sudden annoyed reply startled her. “Because it is not me you’ve to worry about. You’ve invited something powerful and undead to Beacon Hills, that is killing people and it will kill even more as it grows stronger with each kill. Your idiotic alpha twin left the only person who has a chance of even figuring out what we’re dealing with all by herself.”

Lydia was getting the feeling he was genuinely upset about that, even though it was certainly not for the sake of her well being, the undead enemy was doubtlessly worrying him. While she couldn’t be sure she had the feeling Peter wasn’t just talking to Stiles anymore. But whether it was just him or others, Peter had little patience for what they had to say.

“No, of course not, why would I care that we got the FBI in town? That it is just a question of time until more hunters come into town who mostly likely cut you and all the other werewolves in half, before they even glimpse at what is truly going on. I don’t care about that at all.”

Under all that sarcasm Lydia was sensing that there was something more than just logical motivations, if she didn’t knew better she would almost say, Peter was afraid of the trouble these killings might invite to the town: Trouble for werewolves and supernatural creatures such as herself.

“Apart from Deucalion choking her when he assaulted her in the bathroom, I think she is doing fine. But don’t worry, she’s way stronger than any of you give her credit for.”

As he answered the question about her, Peter began playing with her hair. Wrapping a strain around his finger, it was like he was compelled or maybe he was just trying to flatter her. It might have been terribly sweet if he was not the one tormenting her so much that she had proven that she was that strong.

“Eventually,” he smiled and Lydia felt his hand on her shoulder. “First, I want to emphasize what a colossal waste of time and energy it would be to try and find me. Because you won’t, you could walk right past this building and wouldn’t see this place. With what’s out there - that is the safest place Lydia could be.” The last sentence was as much for her as it was for Stiles.

“Ah the emissary straight out of retirement.”

Finally, confirmation that Stiles was not alone and that they were in fact at Deaton’s. Her excitement was overshadowed by how much Peter’s face seem to darken when his sister’s former emissary got involved in the conversation. “I hope he gives Scott better advice than he gave to my nephew. I wonder what matters more to the good doc: Stopping the killings or keeping his true alpha safe?”

This was getting interesting, Lydia had been aware that there was something going on between Deaton and Peter that went beyond the druid being overly mysterious. Suddenly Peter’s demeanor changed again. “Too true but I’ve hopes you might overcome that deficit eventually, Scott.”

Lydia looked at him, she was not sure what it was, but the way he said it made her grin. Scott might have his heart in the right place but sometimes Scott rubbed her the wrong way. Like the last time he had come over to her house.

“Oh very well, I’m growing tired of this conversation,” Peter was clearly annoyed again. With a near sigh, he continued and signalled her to take the phone. “Waste your time looking for me or run around aimlessly in the woods.”

He opened his hand and Lydia took the cell phone. “Hey, how is Ethan doing?”

From following the one sided conversation she was sure they were at the clinic and that Stiles, Scott and Deaton where there. Naira had said she had dropped off Ethan there, so the real question was whether Aiden was there as well. She didn’t need to wait long to find out, as it him who replied full of confidence that Ethan was going to recover in the next 48 hours, before he added what she had feared. “Then we’ll come looking for you!”

“I really wish you wouldn’t.”

Lydia had just thought a few seconds about her reply. It was not like there was a special way of putting it that would magically convince the others that they had better invest their energies into the ongoing problem. Instead she decided to just say what she thought. From the smug and slightly curious look on Peter’s face she knew it at least benefited her overall strategy. Since her friends could do little to nothing to help her that was all that mattered to her.

If she was honest, she didn’t really felt like she was in particular need of saving at the moment. Which didn’t really endear her to Scott’s next assurance. “Don’t worry about us, Lydia. We’re not going to abandon you.”

“That’s good to know,” she said rolling her eyes as if anyone had a doubt that this would be his attitude. The noble hero to the rescue, not even considering that she might have been serious or to ask her what she wanted. Maybe it was time to remind him of the consequences of his last heroic rescue. “But I think you’re forgetting about something - two undead somethings to be precise. Both are roaming around Beacon Hills killing off random people. I know I can figure out what one of these things is. Like it or not, it makes sense to do that right here with Peter’s help.”

“Lydia, you can’t mean that, can you? Is he making you say that?”

On the one hand, she found Stiles’ concern for her quite touching and wished she could make it clear that she was - given the circumstances - doing fine. On the other hand, it seemed that the mere notion of her willing to accept Peter’s help was so horrible to him that he needed to pretend it was forced upon her. While coming here had not be her decision, wanting to stay and see this through was.

“It’s a logical conclusion, if you actually paid attention to the facts and not let your personal bias make your decisions for you, then you’d see that.”

Hoping to sound not too aggressive, she also wanted to make clear that this was her talking, that she could still make rational decision. One reason why she didn’t mind staying was also that it would end the debates whether her thoughts on what was going on could be taken seriously. “If you want to do something for me, convince your father not to get my parents involved. Beacon Hills is not safe for them, Deucalion or whatever else is out there might see them as a target. I’ll call you once I’ve discovered something helpful.”

Then she hung up and handed the phone back to Peter who looked at her as if he was still trying to figure out where that had come from. Lydia took it as a good sign that he wasn’t looking smugly at all. It gave her the confidence that she could learn to hold her own against him. As she asked him about something to eat before going to sleep and tackling the thing in the crypt, she purposefully leaned against him.

Not because she needed or even wanted to be that close; earlier she had noticed that when she had initiated the contact it had seemed to throw him off a bit. This time she paid closer attention to his reaction and it became clear that there was something about her seeking contact that confounded him. While Peter didn’t seem put off by it, was obviously not sure what to make of it. Lydia was sure throwing him off his game was probably not the first thing that crossed his mind. She wasn’t planning on starting to play elaborate mind games with him but she hoped by continuing to throwing him off, she’d eventually would be able to figure out more about his true motives.

It was like peeking through a closed curtain, you didn’t see much but if you ruffled it a bit, you might get a peek through a small gap before it moved back into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, I'm starting with chapter 30 tomorrow ...


	19. A time to dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even dream warriors need to eat and so Lydia gathers her thoughts as she waits for take-out to arrive. Realizing that this might also be the chance to find out more about Peter and his pack.
> 
> _“Are you really sure, you want to tackle the thing tonight? With me close, you could rest tonight regain your strength and then use tomorrow night to go after it,” he suggested in a concerned tone._   
> _The way Peter leaned closer to her, made it clear that he was referring to them sleeping together like two nights ago. The first night in a while where she had actually felt rested and relaxed. It was scary that she actually found the offer tempting. It was ironic in a way that the person who had dragged her into this bleak, dark world was also the one person that seemed to be able to shield her from it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-read either but I did my best to make this readable.

After the phone call, Lydia felt a bit better. Whatever had lead to the brutal confrontation, the important thing was that Ethan was going to recover and so would Rubèn. It was maybe a hopeful sign that a scenario where they all worked together was not impossible. Lydia had enough of this unnecessary violence.

She hated cutting Stiles short but the forth and back talking was tiring her. If she couldn’t convince them that staying here with Peter and seeing this thing through was something she had to do, then at least she could hope that with what had happened to the other parents last year, that Stiles would be able to convince his father not to alert her parents.

Her friends had certainly a gloomier outlook on what was going on with her and Peter than Lydia herself had. Which was strange given that she’d been the one who had spent weeks on her own with him spooking through her mind. Given how awkward they handled her sleeping with Aiden, the whole ritual reveal probably put the most uncomfortable fantasies into their heads. Lydia had the feeling she might actually learn a lot: not just ways to get to the bottom of these killings but also things that might help her in the future with her powers.

For now, there were more immediate needs to consider. Lydia was hungry and when she had mentioned that she’d liked something to eat, Peter had offered to order take-out. Leaving the choice of cuisine to her. After thinking for a moment Lydia picked Chinese and Peter simply said. “Chinese it is.”

While Peter opened his laptop, she lifted up her tea mug. The tea bag had soaked in it for over seven minutes, when she drank the peppermint came through very strong but the warm liquid running down her throat felt good nonetheless. While she was drinking Lydia watched Peter who looked at his browser and selected a link from a folder that was labeled “BH restaurants”.

“You order a lot of take-out, don’t you?” Lydia asked with a smile.

The website that popped open was from a Chinese Restaurant called the Golden Dragon, that apparently also delivered food. Seeing how quickly Peter navigated the page Lydia could tell he had been using it before.

Shrugging he replied. “I’ve got better things to do than cook.”

It was almost like being at home, only that her mother got people to cook in their kitchen from time to time. Lydia was actually the one to use the kitchen the most, but what she put together was not really cooking. Playing with her hair she leaned forward to figure out what to order. Once she had decided Peter took the laptop to the guest room and knocked on the door.

Seeing Peter think of someone else was weird. Technically, it still could fall under the “he was getting something out of it” category but it looked like he was already having the loyalty of his new pack. As she watched him disappear into the guestroom, Lydia wondered if she might also view him in a much too negative light. In the end, she would rather expect the worst and been proven wrong then the other way around.

Nobody could deny that Peter acted absolutely ruthless when pursuing a specific goal but apart from Derek nobody could really say how he acted under more normal circumstances. Even know given the chance Lydia could think about more approachable people to talk to then Derek Hale. When she thought about all her interactions with the Hales, she wondered if normal was a term that ever fitted the Hale family life.

Given that neither Laura, Derek or Cora had ever bothered to visit the graves or even were involved enough with the investigation to notice that there were only eight bodies, it cast an interesting light on how disfunctional the pack actually was. Unlike those three, Peter had at least the excuse that he had been in a coma. But it was rather peculiar that nobody had known that Cora survived and that she hadn’t known the others were alive at least some years past the fire.

Lydia was curious. Observing how Peter acted now that he had a pack, would probably be interesting and shed some light on how much of what he was doing was an act. Unlike the others she doubted that he’d turn around and start to kill random people. He was too purpose driven for that. So maybe as long as Peter didn’t had a reason to go after someone, him being an alpha again would not be as bad at last time. Lydia was sure there was more he wanted, being an alpha again was just part of it. Peter certainly had an eye on her powers and how to use them but how bad that would turn out for her was something Lydia couldn’t say.

Lydia was willing to find out and if she didn’t like it she would hopefully have her friends to fall back on.

Despite Scott assurances, he couldn’t be there all the time. Lydia wasn’t even sure if she wanted the twins to help her: they seemed to demand something that she couldn’t give. Aiden had already felt this unreasonable jealousy and every word she had said before this evening had not helped. During the phone call, when she said that she wanted to stay, that must have gotten under his skin.

Lydia hadn’t forgotten the true purpose behind the twins sleeping with her, she honestly didn’t like them marking her with their scent. It was so demanding. She was sure to them it seemed perfectly normal but Lydia had no tolerance for this. If she hadn’t been so upset, then maybe she could have explained why to Aiden. With them also speculating if Peter had set up Ethan getting shot, Lydia could only imagine how angry Aiden was.

That was not even the sum of her problems: There was Deucalion.

Short of Deucalion ending up dead, Lydia doubted that she would ever get rid of him. If somehow possible he would use her to get his powers back and if not, Deucalion would certainly kill her or worse. That meant Lydia needed protection unless she was to ask someone the unthinkable. This wasn’t just because that would put more strain on her relationship with Scott which wasn’t the best to begin with. It seemed horrible, but part of Lydia hoped for something really bad happening to Deucalion.

There was little else that could fix the situation amicable at least when it came to staying close to her friends. Accepting Peter’s help already bothered Stiles. Allison - unlike Stiles - didn’t only want Peter dead: she might even accomplish that all by herself.

The entire situation was a trainwreck and this was not making it better. But Lydia could not cope with being told what to do and feel by her friends. Until they stopped that, it would be hard to find common ground again or even to have a conversation on the phone.

It upset her that her friends would act this way, way more than anything Peter had done lately. It was probably not fair but she expected better from them. She had gotten over the fact that they had kept her in the dark. At first she had been so happy to have Jackson that it hardly seemed to matter. In fact she didn’t want to talk about any of it. She just indulged childishly in the false sense that everything seemed to get back to normal.

Then the little things creeped back: Jackson having issues with his second nature and Derek hovering around giving him advice. There seemed to be something about werewolves that inherently lead to more violence. Which seemed fitting for the old classic movie type of werewolves who had no control over themselves on the full moon but not people who were clearly in control over their actions.

There had been a lot of careless smacking around, broken bones and yelling. Jackson had been more tolerating of the abuse than Lydia could imagine - probably still feeling guilt about being used as a murder weapon - but he had begun complaining. That was when she had begun talking more with Stiles, given that Allison had fled to France.

Stiles had even been surprised how little she was upset when he explained to her why they had moved her so quickly out of the library towards Scott’s home. Lydia should be mad at Derek for trying to kill her only from his treatment of Jackson and his general family history, it seemed he simply didn’t knew better. The incident seemed to have taught him something.

What Lydia wasn’t going to put up with was anyone telling her how to feel or whom she could ask for advice. Like that one time when Derek sent out Cora to tell her to stop seeing Aiden. The arrogance of that had pissed Lydia off more than the misguided attempt on her life. In the end she hadn’t cared that much about Derek. Stiles acting as if she couldn’t make decisions for herself was upsetting her way more.

While she was reminiscing, Peter had obviously finished talking to his pack and came back with the closed laptop. Placing it on the dinner table, he removed a smart phone from his pocket. Lydia looked at the table where the simply disposable cell she had used to call Stiles laid. There was clearly not enough trust to give out his real phone number. A number she no doubt had in her smart phone and could have passed on to her friends.

He called the restaurant and ordered the Chow Mein for her, then Dry Garlic Spareribs and Yangchow Fried Rice, leaving her wondering if Peter was abstaining from eating or one of his betas.

“Yes, the same appetizers as last time,” he concluded the call.

Lydia leaned over the back of the couch. “So how long do they usually take?”

“Might take up forty-fifty minutes, but it’ll be worth the wait.” Peter looked over to her. Then his voice trailed off a bit at the end. Lydia realised that in her current position she was unintentionally showing off her cleavage. Normally, she avoided doing this, as she wasn’t into leading men on but in this case it just happened unintentionally.

Her efforts not to let this new arrangement bother her and to act comfortable, which she strangely enough was, were in a way similar to flirting. It made Lydia wonder if she knew what she was doing. Throwing Peter off his game by getting under his skin might end up with him taking some liberties despite vague promises to the contrary.

“I’m going to find something to wear for Naira.”

Tearing his eyes away from her, Peter went into the bedroom. Lydia heard the door of the wardrobe sliding and wondered if he had more clothes left over from the witch that had left him the apartment. When he came back just a few minutes later, he was not carrying a fancy black dress or something that might befit the owner of the robe Lydia was wearing; it was a beige sweater and what seemed to be a pair of slacks.

He handed the clothes over and grabbed his laptop on the way back to the couch. Lydia gave him a bit more room to settle in unsure whether she should maintain a healthy distance or risk maybe giving him the entirely wrong signals. It was a moment when Lydia herself was not too sure what she wanted to signal. It was a dangerous game she was playing but it seemed like shooting straight was not the way to handle Peter.

“Are you really sure, you want to tackle the thing tonight? With me close, you could rest tonight regain your strength and then use tomorrow night to go after it,” he suggested in a concerned tone.

The way Peter leaned closer to her, made it clear that he was referring to them sleeping together like two nights ago. The first night in a while where she had actually felt rested and relaxed. It was scary that she actually found the offer tempting. It was ironic in a way that the person who had dragged her into this bleak, dark world was also the one person that seemed to be able to shield her from it.

Lydia felt as if it was rewarding Peter for his bad deeds if she gave in. Whatever else he had planned for her it was obvious that being close to her on his own terms was not something Peter minded. Which was why Lydia didn’t let his gesture unsettle her. Maybe she would need to rest at some point, but right now, she had other priorities.

Feeling particularly brave, she leaned in closer herself and imagined how’d she whispered naughty suggestion into Jackson’s ear. That was as far as her flirt went, when she actually spoke her voice was low but determined. “What part about me wanting to get his solved as soon as possible is so hard to understand?”

Lydia pulled back after she had finished and studied his expression intently. He was so hard to figure out: Peter managed to seem amused and also contemplative at the same time.

“You’re a fast learner - but you’ve got to be aware that it might take more than one night,” he said sincerely, sounding more like a teacher. “It’d be better to have continued series of attempts to identify it. Rather than go for it now and having to take a break after the first couple of attempts.”

The thought of facing night after night to face this creepy thing in the darkness was almost making her rethink her plan to go ahead with it later tonight. The last time it had been really dangerous, looking at her bandaged wrist she realised she had forgotten about it. It still hurt a bit but Lydia had grown used to the sensation.

“Damn, I’ve forgotten to cool this,” she explained when Peter noticed her looking at it.

“Does it hurt badly?” he asked taking her hand.

Shaking her head Lydia couldn’t help but hope that the crystal was going to help protect her from the physical repercussions of her dream. For a moment she considered calling him out on his display of concern given that he had hurt her much worse already but she saw no benefit in being that hostile. “No, it’s not that bad.”

As she tried to pull her hand back, there was just a tiny bit of resistance and given how close he was, Lydia wondered if he was testing her. Either way given how she felt her heart beat faster and the way her face started to glow, this was serious enough. Suddenly, she realised the flaw in her plan: her inconvenient but very noticeable attraction. It was hard to think about the right way of making contact to unrattle him when she was actually resisting the impulse to get closer.

‘Come on, Lydia,’ she told herself, ‘get a grip on yourself.’

“Have you given any more thought about what I’ve suggest the other night?” he suddenly said with a certain smile.

“A suggestion?” She looked around the room, trying hard to remember what suggestion he might have made, apart from offering to protect and help her with her banshee abilities. “Oh.”

Suddenly it hit her. Lydia had already forgotten about that, since it seemed to her like a bad tease. That is if Peter was referring to his romantic advance, not that there had been anything romantic about it. Her face revealed her thoughts to him on this matter and he drew back.

“I better get you get some ice.” His tone sounded disappointed, which was something she was sure Peter was able to fake very well. As he got up and walked past her, she noticed that he made it a point not touch. Given what little space there was - between her and the table - it was obvious despite how swiftly he moved. Whatever game Peter was playing with her, she was not sure about his strategy. Not that she was sure about hers.

Being a werewolf of course he had no need for a cool pack and so he fixed something up with a plastic bag, ice cubes and a towel. Which he handed to her a few minutes later.

“Thanks,” Lydia said in response and mostly out of reflex. She had stare at the book on the table for the past two minutes and now she just had to ask: “What kind of books have you been getting from Yoon?”

Peter sat down on the edge of the couch, almost leaning over her. “This one is on ancient witch cults,” he shrugged. “The others, some more or less informative, were all on supernatural topics. The real ones, not books exploring Wicca culture or the legend of the vampire.”

“So you’re gathering more knowledge on what - supernatural beings, rituals?” she looked at the hand scanner. “And you’re archiving everything.”

“Most of the druids, even the witches, believe in keeping information to themselves,” Peter was clearly not thinking much of that policy and to a degree she could agree with it. “You’re lucky if they share the barest minimum when you need it, because most of them don’t know that much more either. I don’t like depending on some wise old sage who may or may not know and is debating what to share and what not.”

Lydia avoided looking at him and instead focused on the book, it was an old heavy volume, the title was obscured but she believed the language was some ancient Aramaic dialect. Only the book didn’t look that old, but it seemed like it was handwritten. It was probably insanely expensive, somehow she had the feeling that Yoon was getting these rare books, Peter scanned them in and then she sold them again.

“So, you and Yoon are working on the wikimedia of archaic texts?” she concluded

“Something like that, given that you’re good with archaic Latin and dabbled in other languages, you’re more than welcome to join our little project. So far we’re only five. Well, seven, if you include Naira and Rubèn, who are both interested in helping with whatever they can do.”

He was really proud of what he was doing, Lydia could hear it in his voice. It explained a lot, about his connection to Yoon but also what he was doing with his time. Gaining more knowledge was something Lydia could get behind. There was always the question what it could do in the wrong hands but she could also see the other side. If knowledge was kept from the right hands, then it would be even harder to do anything against the misuse of it.

Had Peter’s sister not taken the knowledge of the Nemeton from Derek and Peter, they would never had to do this dark ritual.

“That might be debatable,” she replied pausing a bit while she shifted the ice cubes on her wrist, “I’ll have to know more first.”

“Of course.” He rose again and took a step away from her and the couch. “There’s no hurry.”

That was certainly true. Unless the answer to solve this crisis lay hidden in one of these old books. First, they needed to find out more about that undead, extremely powerful thing that was able to invade dreams. There couldn’t be too many things like that but finding the right creature would be hard. Thinking about the Argent’s alone having a whole bestiary full of creatures, Lydia could only guess how many more possibilities might be out there.

Busy with drinking her tea, resting her wrist and thinking about what she would do tonight, she was surprised to hear the rattling of dishes. When she looked towards Peter and the kitchen area, she saw that he was setting down three plates. So at least he was not above doing that now that he had become an alpha again. Not that she had a clue how unusual that was for him. It felt wrong to ask him how they used to do things before Kate Argent torched their home.

Lydia made herself comfortable on the couch more listening than watching what Peter was doing. It was the first time they had been in the same room for more than five minutes where he hadn’t paid any attention to her. Which she didn’t lament at all, it was just weird to have him go about his own business after setting the table. It could be that he was just avoiding her on purpose as he seemed to browse through a shelf of books at the other end of the living room.

Still cooling her injured wrist, she took some more time to take in the layout of the flat and the items in it. The fact that there was no tv visible was probably not that unusual, and it looked like there was one in that closed compartment in the bookshelf closer to the couch. While the apartment looked like it had gotten an overhaul no longer than two years ago, some of the items that actually decorated the shelves seemed to belong to the witch: Lydia sincerely doubted that Peter was collecting glass figurines.

It was like Peter didn’t want to remove the presence of the witch, just changing enough to serve his needs. The apartment was so clear cut that a blind person could easily move in. There was a substantial lack of paintings and the like, with the exception of the picture in the bathroom - which was also a relief - and it had made Lydia wonder if the witch had indeed been blind. It wouldn’t explain the bookshelves filled with normal books.

While she was still busy wondering about the apartment’s previous owner and how Peter came to this place, the doorbell rang. Given her current apparell she remained on the couch as Peter opened the door. The delivery man handed over their food and Peter paid him. As soon as the front door was closed, Naira came out of the guest room, sporting the black slacks and the beige sweater.

Lydia got up to head to kitchen sink where she placed the bag with the mostly molten ice-cubes.

“Hey, I’m glad to hear that your friend will recover,” Naira said awkwardly as they all sat down at the small dinner table, “I promise as long as he stays away from Rubèn, he has nothing worry about.”

Clearly, she meant what she said: There was no particular wish on her side to kill or harm anyone but if they threatened someone she loved, Naira would defend them. If it really was Ethan who had lashed out first, Lydia hoped the twins wouldn’t seek revenge. Also it was doubtful that either of them would listen to her. The reason that the Twins were so aggressive lately was the whole situation they had gotten into. Even Lydia had felt some of that unreasonable anger, only when she vented it, the worst that happened where maybe ringing ears.

“So, how is Rubèn doing?” Lydia wanted to know as they began putting the food on their respective plates.

His absence answered her question who was sitting out dinner. That Peter went for the Dry Garlic Spareribs wasn’t too much of a surprise either.

“Sleeping - finally. The wounds have closed but are still visible,” Naira explained.

Eating with Peter and his new beta as if nothing had happened seemed surreal. Lydia had the feeling that Aiden would see it as the ultimate betrayal. It was also possible that this was just her guilty conscience. As she honestly didn’t mind, the Twins had done similar harm before to her friends and she still had gotten along with them. So why shouldn’t she get along with Naira and even Peter?

As long as she kept reminding herself that Peter had his own interests at heart, she would be fine. Aggression so far hadn’t really helped her or her friends to reveal anything and her new strategy seemed to work much better. Yet, the atmosphere at the dinner table was strained. Lydia reminded herself that she was quite capable of smoothing things out, if she could do it as school with a bunch of teens, this should be easy.

“What are you planning to do, once this thing is over?” Lydia asked as casually as she could given that ‘this thing’ referred to a two different killing sprees occurring in their little town.

Naira was ready to answer but then looked at Peter, who with an almost unnoticeable gesture signaled something to her. Then the recent turnee shrugged: “Not sure yet, but it would be nice to settle down. As much excitement as life as bounty hunter provided, it’s not something I wanted to do forever.”

“Bounty Hunter - as in going after people who jump bail?” While Lydia basically knew what the profession was about, it was not like she had ever meet an actual person who was one. Beacon Hills had no shortage of hunters but not of this type.

“Yeah, it seemed to fit my interests. My mother is more the academic type, my father joined the military. Taught me how to handle guns, made me take all kinds of self-defence classes and then I started to study martial arts but - you know - watching tv shows, somehow got me interested in law enforcement - hunting down bad guys seemed so cool when you’re seeing it through the eyes of a camera.”

“I take it the reality is quite different,” Lydia tried to encourage her to continue. It was easy to sound genuinely interested, because she found the whole concept intriguing. Peter let them talk, whatever he had not wanted her to say, talking about her past was not an issue with him.

Naira finished another bite of her fried rice, then kept going. “It’s very boring stuff, most people are just really desperate losers and there isn’t nearly as much action involved. If there is, it’s more disconcerting than anything else. You’ve got to establish connection with local agencies, bail bonds persons and you’re not always welcome, either. Especially, as a woman.”

“She underplays her other credits, just because she doesn’t like studying, doesn’t mean she has not aced all her exams and the additional qualifications she had to make,” Peter finally chipped in making Naira blush.

“Both of my parents tried to pass on what they do best,” Naira said brushing it off, looking at her Yangchow which she continued to eat with more devotion.

Lydia had so many more questions. “So Rubèn works with you? Must be helpful to have werwolf at your side in that profession.”

That caused Naira to laugh and then cough. Some of her food had found it’s way in the wrong throat. Still amused she eventually said. “Yes, it had it’s benefits - but I actually try to keep him out of sight. You see, up until last year - Rubèn was wanted for questioning. Three years ago, I was working as a deputy in a small town. Just a job for the summer near some air conditioning, when I found out what he was and why people were looking for him, I decided to help him.”

“So they were hunters after him, like Allison’s aunt?”

The way Naira said people was with such disdain that it seem to point to that. However she felt reluctant about bringing up Kate Argent, who was like the prime example of why any sane person found out about werewolves and then side with them.

Peter just scoffed and said with severe loathing in his voice: “Not like her aunt.”

Puzzled Lydia looked at the serious faces both made, as Peter continued. “It was her. She took down most of Rubèn’s old pack. In fact, the only other survivor was Rubèn’s cousin, a 11 year old girl whom he had escorted to a boarding school. When he came back, everyone else had been subjected to corporectomy while being strung up. The sheriff thought he might be responsible, despite Rubèn clearly not having been in town.”

“But after you resurrected Peter, he was able to sent the newspaper articles of Kate to the authorities,” Naira began before he interrupted her. “Anonymously, of course.”

“Of course,” she smiled and then added. “A deputy remembered her being in town - with her kill squad - and put one and one together. Rubèn was cleared and completely exonerated. It probably also helped that the racist sheriff had not been re-elected by then.”

That certainly explained why they were siding with Peter and got along so splendidly. It turned out that for once he actually did a good thing. Even though Lydia wondered how he found out about Kate being involved. “How did you find out about this?”

“After coming back to life for the second time, I checked up on old acquaintances.”

He then explained how his sister’s advice was thought by other alphas and that this way, Rubèn’s pack had also come to Beacon Hills years ago on a few occasions. Before Deucalion had his psychotic break and got his alpha pals to butcher their packs as well. That incidents made other packs stay far away from the town. Lydia knew most of this from Stiles.

Peter added to that the more successful packs usually maintained good relations with others packs. It surprised Lydia but as he put it, they had some traits with wolves in common but they were still rational enough to not freak out when another pack just visited their territory. Either way, Rubèn and Peter got along well back then. So it probably made sense, that Peter had gotten back into contact with old friends. Especially with him not getting along with Derek and his pack.

“What happened to the cousin?” Lydia hoped this was a happier answer. It was hard enough to wrap her head around the fact that Allison’s family ran around actually hunting werewolves like animals when they clearly were just people with special gifts, people not unlike her.

“She got taken in by another pack,” Peter said after finishing his portion. “It’s easier for pre-teens and teenager to be adopted by another pack. Adult omegas aren’t always accepted.”

“I never quite understood that,” Naira said sounding as curious as Lydia felt about it.

They went on with the rest of their meals as Peter did what he clearly loved to do: showing off his knowledge. As there was some discrepancy between what each of them knew about werewolves and their packs, he began with the basics. Explaining that between a truly functioning pack there is a bond, a connection that is shared between an alpha and several betas. While some packs are family and thus either are related to the alpha or were bitten by him that is not everything that makes the bond. It just helps establishing one.

“It’s a prerequisite that you share a connection. Being raised by or growing up with the alpha is one way. So a young child can become part of another pack, but that bond can also come about through friendship, a common enemy or goal.” Peter’s voice trailed off a bit, almost as if there was more but Lydia got it. “Then it’s still about accepting the authority of the alpha. Which is why some packs tend to fall apart when the old alpha is killed.”

“What if there is more than one alpha?” Lydia wondered about how much of a pack bond she actually shared with the twins. They insisted that she was but if she was honest, she did not felt that there was a mystical bond between her and them, nor was there one between her and Scott or the others. The nagging doubt that this was only due to her not being willing or open enought o be part of it, had crossed her mind on more than one occasion.

“They clearly were accepting Deucalion as the leader,” he shrugged. “It’s unheard of, maybe there was real bond, hard to tell from the outside. In a functioning pack, you can see the bond at work. The individual betas are much stronger than those in a dysfunctional pack - like you know - Derek’s band of problematic and now mostly dead teenagers.”

Peter smiled. “I guess, you can talk about a pack without there being a bond. Like Scott and his band of misfits. They certainly work well together but as for a real bond, the simple fact that neither Allison nor Stiles are werewolves makes that impossible. I’m not even sure if Isaac has come that far with Scott. That kid is so troubled and cleary switching allegiances on whatever seems the safest bet at the time.”

“If your nephew did such a horrible job as the alpha, you can hardly blame him for looking some stability,” Naira said most empathically.

Stability was something Lydia could relate to. With her parents on and off relationship, her traveling for business reasons all the time, it had felt good to have at least a solid standing in school. It all had fallen slowly apart when Jackson began obsessing about becoming a werewolf. That was the first pillar being pulled out and then it had not taken long until her world finally came crashing down.

The only good thing that had come out of it, was that she did not need to pretend so much anymore. Instead of being the pretty girl at the arm of the captain of the lacrosse team she was now the slightly disturbed girl who ran around naked in the woods but also someone who did not need to hide her A grades in every single class. But that was still a long way off from feeling solid ground to stand on. How could she feel secure when her dreams were not her own whenever a new supernatural threat came into town.

“True,” Peter said giving a reluctant nod, “but Scott has a lot to learn about leading a pack, being a true alpha he certainly has the potential to become one of the best, but given his lack of understanding about our nature, what having an actual pack means, he might fail everyone spectacularly.”

Lydia knew he wasn’t just bashing Scott’s leadership skills, given how reluctant Scott was to actually step up and do so. It was more a democracy and while that was certainly the best system for managing a country, Lydia knew that didn’t automatically mean it was the best way for everything. Even democracies needed strong leaders, not that she was convinced that meant Peter was better suited for the job.

When they had finished eating, Naira stood up and cleared the dishes away, leaving Lydia in a position where she wasn’t quite ready to continue discussing what made a pack and by extension a good leader. Her thoughts went more to how well she would fare in her dream tonight.

“You want still want to go ahead and do this tonight?” Peter suddenly asked her.

It had to be the look on her face, Lydia was sure she looked just as unhappy as she felt about this whole situation. “Yes, it’s not going to get any easier. Besides I can do this.”

“One thing is for sure, you’re an exceptionally fast learner.”

The thing was, while she only now began influencing her dreams, this type of shared nightmare was not exactly alien to her. Lydia could also tell the difference between the two and still recognize how similar the whole process was. This time she felt a bit better prepared. Each little success gave her more confidence to go up against the thing from the crypt. “Yoon said, just in case the crystal doesn’t work or overloads, I should have someone keep an eye on me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay awake - occupy myself with scanning in the latest book I got from her. If there is anything going wrong, I’ll know it.”

His assurance sounded sincere, it was not like there was a reason to believe he wouldn’t look out for her. It just felt strange to rely on his protection. Her head was aware of the huge advantage of him being the one on the look out but her heart still saw him as a threat to her.

“I’m going to get it right - tonight I’m going to see its face,” she said determined.

“It might not be that pleasant a sight.”

Tilting her head a bit to her side, she gave him her best ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look. “Oh really?”

After him spooking around half-burned as a not quite dead corpse and all those death visions, she was sure even a half rotten or demonic grimace wasn’t going to deter her. Then after a moment something else occurred to her. “You already have an idea what it might be.”

Even Naira stopped what she was doing, probably just as curious what it might be they were facing.

“None of the options are very pretty - but I can’t tell you anything,” Peter sighed. “It might influence what you see.”

“But whatever it is, it worries you,” Naira added and got a reluctant nod from him.

Lydia knew she was right. Whatever that thing was, they already knew it was powerful and that was never a good thing. It seemed like Peter was counting on getting Scott to help with defeating that thing. Only that everyone was for some weird reason more outraged at him than before and it was clear that whatever needed to be done, Peter doubted if Scott was willing to do it.

First she needed to make good on her resolution to unveil or unmask or whatever one would call revealing that monstrous thing in the dark. Slowly, she rose from her chair. “There is no use waiting any longer.”

“That’s the Lydia I know not backing away from anything,” Peter sounded proud.

She shrugged it off and got up from her chair. His behaviour irked her, but she wanted to focus on what she needed to do not get into arguments with him.

“Good night,” Lydia said more in the direction of Naira than Peter, having the feeling that this wouldn’t be the last she saw of him.

Naira smiled encouragingly. “Good luck.”

Holding her head high, Lydia turned around and marched off to the bathroom. Before she went to bed, she wanted to get properly ready for the night. Just because she was facing a grotesque and smelly monster, didn’t mean she should have bad breath. Nobody said anything until she had vanished in the bathroom, but she had the feeling she was watched as she marched off.

Maybe it was a bit impolite to walk off so fast but she felt it was late and she was feeling exhausted and this was really something she needed to do. So she gathered her toothbrush and paste. The book on dreaming had listed brushing your teeth extra long and carefully as a way to clear the mind from all the unnecessary baggage.

With all that had happened today and the very fact that she would go after it sleeping in Peter’s bed, Lydia needed all the strategies available to keep her focus. For this to work she needed to think of the images she wanted to take with her. This time she had no flashlight as physical prop to help her, but she remembered that a torch might be more useful anyway and concentrated on that image.

When she was done, she washed her face with warm water and carefully padded her face dry with a towel. On her way out towards the bedroom, she hung up that silk robe Peter had given her earlier.

Speaking off the devil, he was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her. Lydia took a deep breath and after taking a few uneasy steps towards him, she sat down beside him.

“You have the crystal?” he asked.

Straight to business, she liked that, as she was in no mood for more of his compliments or excuses. Lydia nodded and reached into the handbag which she had set down beside the bed. The crystal was lighter than she had remembered. Holding it up to him, she couldn’t help but voicing her doubts. “It’s hard to believe this will actually work.”

“Luckily, you don’t have to be convinced for this to work, you just have to hold onto it or more precisely stay in contact with it,” Peter told her calmly.

While he spoke, he took her hand with the crystal. Lydia almost wanted to pull it away, when Peter revealed a red bandana, that was rolled into long strip. While she wondered what it was for, he wrapped it around her hand to tie the crystal to it.

Remembering how she had thrown the flashlight in her hand away during her dream without even realising it, Lydia had to admit she was glad Peter thought of it. It wasn’t a hundred percent secure the crystal could still slip out or it could get loose, but she felt safer with the tight knot pressing it into her palm.

“Thanks.” Whether anyone liked it or not: right now they were allies with the same goal, and Peter was taking good care of her. Lydia knew he wanted her to succeed and that in this case him being smart and resourceful worked in her favour for a change.

“I’ll leave the door open,” he told her almost as if he sensed that she wanted to get his on with and wasn’t open for long conversations. “I’d stay closer but ... that would be counterproductive.”

Lydia nodded as there was not much else to say. Peter stood up and left, while she got up briefly to move the covers aside and then make herself comfortable under the cool satin fabric. As she looked up Peter was standing in the door frame looking at her. His hand was on the light switch. When she nodded, he turned off the light and pulled the door close until it was only slightly ajar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also editing the first chapters on my own, as I noticed that despite having a beta for most of those, there were a couple of missing words and even sentences that made no sense. Sorry, about that, I really wish I could give you properly edited chapters but I really need to wait a long time till I can go back to chapters I wrote and find the problematic parts. If I go back sooner I just don't see the missing words as I still know what I wanted to say.


	20. Things in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia is determined to find out who or what the creature from her dreams is, but when she enters the dream, it has a few surprises for her ...
> 
> _It was the dream, she could feel it, felt herself standing surrounded by darkness. She gulped, realising the torch she had hoped to hold in her hand hadn't come with her this time around. Fear rushed over her, as she believed for a moment she had made it right back into the crypt only without any form of light. The ground under her naked feet felt rougher and more uneven than that in the crypt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [MidnightMoonWarrior](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2177888/) and [Soul of the Wind](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/996400/) who helped me with this and whom you have to thank for getting this chapter so fast ;)

Peter’s bedroom wasn’t completely dark. A glow, coming from the living room, was visible from the small gap between door and frame and there was a bit of light coming from the street down below. The stop lights and a blinking neon sign cast faint coloured light flashes through the window creating shadows that made scary impressions of unidentifiable and obscure looking entities around the room.

Not that Lydia used to be the person to be haunted by scary things in the dark, but now she was aware that there were reasons to be afraid. Just in case there was something or someone else lurking: like a deranged werewolf or a psychotic teacher with a face straight from hell. It was hard not to think about those two since her throat was still hurting.

When she closed her eyes, it was dark enough to sleep. The bed was comfortable and her exhaustion, together with having eaten well, made her slowly drift into sleep. She lost all sense of time. There were the noises from the street, the occasional whisper in the living room, and other noises in the distance. They eventually faded and even the impulses behind her closed eyes made room to a pitch black nothingness.

It was the dream, she could feel it, felt herself standing surrounded by darkness. She gulped, realising the torch she had hoped to hold in her hand hadn't come with her this time around. Fear rushed over her, as she believed for a moment she had made it right back into the crypt only without any form of light. The ground under her naked feet felt rougher and more uneven than that in the crypt.

Even though the lack of noises hinted at nothing coming at her, there was this feeling that something lay in wait; her arms were covered with goosebumps and dread filled her stomach. Lydia knew she needed to be careful as she had no idea where she was. Testing her way in the dark with her feet, she soon found that to her left the stone path ended in a steep decline. Lydia wasn't about to find out how deep it went. Feeling around for a minute revealed that there was a steep decline on the right side as well.

It seemed she was on an elevated path that was maybe four feet wide. Slowly advancing, Lydia had to face the fact she had no idea in which direction to turn. The realisation that she was alone in the dark, unable to see even anything, in dead silence with something definitely trying to kill her even if it wasn’t here at the moment, made her slowly but steadily more nervous. Maybe that was exactly what the thing from the crypt tried to accomplish.

At this very moment, she wished for her trusty flashlight but she would bet if she had brought it along, she would be somewhere where it was useless. Lydia tried to concentrate, conjuring one up with her mind but it didn’t work either. Blind in the dark, she tested the way ahead: at least toward the direction she had been facing.

She realised that she probably should have worn something more practical. Chances were that this might have projected into her dream, at least if she focused enough. Still, the torch idea had been good, if she had been holding one when manifesting inside this dreamscape. This was the right environment for it. A cavish atmosphere that made brought out the goosebumps as a cold steadily creeped up her legs.

Every third step or so, she would step on a small pebble and sometimes even something a little larger. She tried to brush them away with her toes before her feet down, but it didn't always work as expected. Then one of the small stones, slided over the path and there was nothing for a very long second: finally, it hit a body of water.

Heights were not usually a problem for Lydia. What this told her was that the water was about thirty feet below her. That was entirely too high for any sane person to play blind man’s bluff. She had never mastered the art of waking up on command. Since that left her with two choices.

The first was to stay put and wait until something woke her up. A gamble since it might also mean that something could come after her, leaving her in a location where she was utterly vulnerable. Remembering the creatures that had chased after her in her last dream, she was opting for choice number two: to carefully go on to find a place that offered her more cover.

It took her a few more steps to feel the soft decline of the path ahead, making her wonder if she was on some sort of bridge. Stepping or kicking off a few more tiny stones from her path, Lydia got an idea. She moved carefully to a crouching position and collected a few larger ones. Then she rose and calculating where the path lead, she threw one.

It clanked down on rock and then after a second or so, it hit the water. The next stone she threw what she hoped was to ninety degrees to her left. While she had no idea how far she had thrown it, it was somewhat disheartening to hear the plop when it hit the water. Doing the same to right side, gained her another hit against a rock, followed by the pebble falling down into water.

Just as she wanted to test the path behind her, she heard something. The noise came from under her, as if something moved in the water. Suddenly she was able to walk much faster down the sloping path. Once, she heard it breach the surface, Lydia strode forward at an almost reckless speed.

Whatever it was, it began splashing around. It also brought a somewhat acrid, manky smell with it. The clamour was getting really loud - her blood pounded inside her ears and she still could hear everything under her clearly. Her mind began analysing the sounds. Whatever it was it had to have multiple arms, or given that it came from under the water it were more likely they were tentacles. It was strange that even in the absence of her other senses, a clear picture formed in her mind and it wasn't a pretty one. Dream or no dream, that thing definitely tried to keep her away. For now she was satisfied by putting as much distance between what she thought might be a kraken-like creature.

Lydia wasn't the best runner and that translated into her dream. Her exhaustion and her fear of falling down made her slow down considerably. It was the feeling of something displacing the air next to her head that got her to stumble. The path seemed to have gotten a bit broader or else she certainly would have plunged into the water below her.

Instead she fell on the rocky path and found herself staring up into the darkness around her. Lydia knew she needed to move, even if the crystal protected her from the injury caused by the creature, she was certainly going to be catapulted out of the dream if she was seriously hurt or came close to dying in it. There was no guarantee that if things went wrong she wouldn’t die after all: drown after being dragged into the depth of the water below her or even worse eaten by whatever nightmarish tentacle creature was reaching for her.

Her legs felt numb and even though she wanted nothing more than to get up and continue her escape from this place, she was like frozen in place. The only thing she felt moving was was her heart and it obviously wanted to jump out of her chest. In hindsight, spending a bit more time around Peter seemed suddenly like not such a bad option.

The thought of him, also brought to mind a piece of advice he had given her: she needed to work with her surrounding. Even though she couldn't see anything, Lydia realised that she had already begun picturing the scenery around her. Taking deep breath, she calmed herself down as she painted a more complete picture of her surrounding.

Below her was water and in those murky depth was a creature right out of one of those stupid fantasy films she had only watched so she could force Jackson in return to watch the likes of ‘The Notebook’ with her. Over the creature’s habitat lead a stony path that functioned as a bridge carved out of the stone. It had to be some sort of underground cave, because otherwise there would be moonlight or stars or anything. Even lying on her back and staring upwards there was nothing but darkness.

However, as she felt around with her arms, she realised this part of the bridge was much wider. It didn’t feel as steep as well. She must have made it close to the end. Lydia did her best to picture what would await her now: there would be a solid wall, the bridge would merge into a rocky outcropping leading to a narrow passageway that would lead away from this underground lake lair of the multi-armed beast.

Focusing on this, she felt something passing over her so close that it almost touched her. Even though she didn't know if she had succeed like with the lightning bolt or the flashlight in her previous dreams, she had to move. The fear of being caught if she were to stand up, made her crawl instead. At first slowly, she moved one arm, feeling the roughness of the stone as she put her weight on it to move the opposing leg next to the other one. Little pebbles poked into both knees. Once the spell was broken and she slowly scooted away putting forward each limb individually until her movements became more fluent. While she still felt arms or tentacles passing her it was as if they were further in the distance.

After what seemed to last forever, her head bumped into something rock hard. She gasped, it hadn't been that painful, but it had surprised her. Feeling something rush at her, she quickly rolled to her side as a wet and heavy tentacle crashed onto the stone next to her. It slithered over the stones withdrawing slowly back towards the water.

Quickly rising to her feet, she accidentally stepped on the slimy leftovers. As she was barefoot and the ground slightly uneven, she considered herself lucky that she wasn't slipping in it. Her hands moved along the wall, looking for the opening and without further ado, she dashed into it. The passage wasn't quite as a narrow as she had imagined it.

She had been a bit fuzzy on that detail. Instead of it being small enough so she could feel both sides of the wall with her elbows by her side, Lydia could stretch out her arms and still having problems touching both at the same time. Supporting herself by sticking to the left side, a few feet in, she stumbled over a soft mass. Instantly the smell from the creature seemed less bad, than the stink that reached her nose.

Feeling what it was, she made contact with a hand. A cold, wet hand with skin that felt glitchy and swollen. Resisting the urge to gag, she wondered why that thing had left her with a body. Was it a reminder of what was going to happen to her? Maybe a warning or did it just wanted to scare her out of the dream?

But the body gave her an idea. Lydia asked herself what kind of person would be found dead in a cave with a tentacle type of monster. Obviously an explorer of some sort, maybe and adventurer, certainly a person who had brought emergency equipment with him or her. It worked, she pictured a backpack with flares and found four of them.

Unable to hold three flares in one hand and not wanting the pack from the dead person, she stuffed one of them between her breasts, where the tight structure of her night gown held it in place. Two in one hand and the other in her right hand, she lit that one. The last time she had dealt with flares was when they had all checked into Motel Suicide. Lydia doubted that she could trick her mind into believing a jerrycan would be standing around in this environment. She tried but when she turned and looked around, she didn't see one.

It seemed there was a limit to her abilities to interact with the dream she was finding herself in. It was a world set by that thing she was looking for and she could influence it but only if the changes made sense enough. While she was grateful to finally have some light, she avoided looking at the corpse. The worst was hidden thanks to it lying face first on the ground but seeing the bloated hands, remembering how they had felt, was enough to make her fight the rising bile in her throat.

Looking back into cave, she saw the outline of the bridge that rose with some shadowy tentacle arms moving up from underneath it. As the arms had been much closer to the entrance to this tunnel, Lydia realised that this thing was probably afraid of light. With a precise move, she threw the flare onto the beginning of the bridge, before it rose. It caused the thing to retreat even further. In case she would have to make it back, she at least knew that with a flare she had a chance.

First she wanted to explore what lay at the end of this tunnel. As it went further down, Lydia had hoped that just as the last time it would lead her to the crypt. It would lead her there, she told herself. She needed to focus on that, if she had any hope of it working. After braving the bridge and the tentacle beast, she was more determined than ever.

At this moment, she felt slimy touch of a hand around her ankle. Immediately, she stepped back, letting out a surprised yelp. Under her the body of the explorer stirred, lunging at her as it pulled itself up to its knees. Then it raised its head and every fiber of her being just wanted to scream and get away from this thing.

Even though it looked more horrible than she had anticipated, she kept her lips pressed shut. Resisting the urge to scream afraid it might wake her up. There was still the resemblance of a face, but it was bloated and looked like rubber. The lips were cracked and in a state of decay, part of the lower lip was torn, revealing yellow teeth. The nose was halfway gone already and instead of eyes, there were just holes with something wiggling inside of them. At this point she was glad the flare was lying so many feet away from them.

It was still reaching for her while also trying to get up. Lydia considered herself lucky, it moved so sluggish. The stench got even worse when the jaw fell open and it was gurgling something at her. For all she knew it might just be gas leaving the body or it was one of those zombies that said “brains” as in that stupid Halloween movie marathon. Next year, she was going to give a proper costume party. She had about enough from icky, disgusting images.

Thinking about the last Halloween with her friends made this a bit more bearable. It reminded here that you couldn't give up and that sometimes she did need to fight. Even though she didn't like violence, right now, she needed to get past that undead person. In the best case this was designed to block her way, in the worst case, another attempt to kill her inside her dreams.

Grabbing another flare and tightening her hand around it, she thought of the crystal that was hopefully protecting her and still should be tied to that very hand outside her dream. Then she popped the flare and shoved it into the grotesque face in front of her. The zombie roared and began to flail, before collapsing to the ground.

Her back tightly pressed to the wall, Lydia made her way past the twitching corpse. Far away from that thing, at a point when darkness nearly had her in its grasp again, Lydia took the flare from her decollete and lit it. She hoped that it and the remaining one would last until she had found what she had been looking for.

As imagined, the way led further down and so she just focused on what she wanted to find at the end of the tunnel. The thought that the thing behind this could just play hide and seek, did occur to her but somehow she was confident that it couldn't hide from her indefinitely. So far she had always found her way to it. The attempts to deter her were getting stronger but as she had now protection that shouldn't matter.

After what seemed like minutes of walking through an unchanging passage, Lydia finally saw a narrowing at the end of the tunnel. The closer she got, the stronger the smell of rotten fish became. The creature’s very own appalling fragrance, that lead her to believe she nearly had reached her goal, but then the passage ended.

“Typical,” she complained. Her journey hadn't quite reached a dead end. At the bottom was a small opening: a gap she could crawl through. But that also meant being more vulnerable than usual. Having come this far Lydia didn't want to turn back. Instead she knelt down and held the flare down to see what she could make out. It seemed to be a round room with a huge stone sarcophagus in the middle. At least, that’s what she assumed the rectangular block in the middle was. It was impossible to see anything more a feet and a half above ground.

The smell might mean it was close but she was unable to see the creatures position. Flinging the flare, which was anyway near its end, so it would land in front of the stone block in the middle, she kept watching and listening for signs of it. There was nothing and then finally she heard stone scratch over stone.

A huge stone lid came crashing down, obscuring the flare from her view. Even without the sound of rustling clothing, she knew the creature had rested inside that stone grave. As fast as she was able to Lydia crawled through the opening. Once she was through she stood up using the stone wall to cover her back. It provided at least a bit protection.

The lid took away so much from the fading flare light that she could hardly make out anything. It was just silhouettes and shadows, enough to see that her nemesis was coming closer. Lydia was afraid, the moment the lid had dropped her heartbeat had gotten fast. Her fast breathing alone must give away her position.

Her left hand still held onto the last remaining flare. With her right, she felt her way along the round wall. She felt some sort of opening but it wasn't another exit. It was a basin carved into the stone, but the substance inside felt oily. Lydia had no time to figure out how far around this basin went, as the creature was getting too close to her.

Not bothering to switch the flare to her other hand, she lit it and instantly the thing turned away. Lydia refused to believe what she saw. She tried to step closer but then she noticed the basin was going around most of the room. It only stopped at a man size entrance behind the creature. Holding the flare against the oil, it caught fire which then spread to the left and right.

The creature couldn't hide anymore outside the reach of her flare. The whole crypt was enlightened by the shine of the fire from the oily basin. It would have been a fiery triumph if what she saw now had a face or even a head. What Lydia saw was rump in dirty linen with a stump that was festering in pus. It was definitely looking undead. Only as far as she understood it, zombies needed their heads.

It had to be a trick but with the disappointment of not getting to see what she had hoped to, her confidence took a pretty big hit. The thing seemed to sense that. Unlike the zombie explorer from the tunnel, it moved fluidly. Spreading its arms that both ended in stumps, it seemed to point something out to her.

Lydia heard the water rushing towards her. Soon, she saw it seeping from the narrow gaps: the one she had crawled through and the one on the opposite site. There was no doubt that the room would fill with water, drowning her. The awful thing had moved to block the door which which seemed like her best way out unless she found a way to wake up.

The mere wish and focusing hard on wanting to wake up, didn’t seem to help. She whispered to herself “wake up, wake up” but so far waking up had always been triggered by her special branch of scream. As she kept trying, the water kept pouring in. Soon it reached up to her knees. Her life being in danger certainly meant that eventually she would scream in panic only so far it was just water rising.

This made her wonder what would happen if she didn't feel like going all banshee before there was no air and she was completely under water. Somehow she didn’t want to test if her screams would work then. She needed to wake up now - in case the crystal wasn't working. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Yoon but betting her life on a piece of rock wasn’t her first choice.

As she looked around, seeing that the water level was soon reaching the fiery basin, Lydia got a very desperate idea. With the cold water already reaching her hips, she reached out and held her right hand into the fire, recalling there was something else that had caused her to scream. She had expected it to hurt a lot, but was quite unprepared for the level of pain. Closing her eyes, she let out a massive scream.

Her plan had worked for the next thing she realised was that she was lying in a warm bed. On the side of it, sat Peter still suffering from her yell as was evident by the expression on his face. Her breath was still on the verge of hyperventilation, but laboured as her heart was also working overtime. Lydia still couldn't believe that after everything she had gone through, that thing was still hiding from her in plain sight.

“This is the point where I really wish my hearing would have suffered a bit,” Peter said jokingly.

“Is everything alright?” Naira asked.

Naturally, she had also woken up the other two werewolves. Maybe her friends had heard her as well. Wearing silk boxers and a shirt, the recently turned beta was looking at her with a worried expression. Lydia nodded, gathering her voice. “I think so.”

Looking at her right hand, there were no new injuries and the crystal was still tied to her hand. The only difference was that it was no longer transparent but grey bordering on black.

Peter took her hand and looked at it. “It certainly threw a lot of negative energy at it. You must have come very close.” Then he turned to Naira. “Don’t worry, there will be no more screaming tonight.”

That was a comforting thought. She leaned a bit forward and Peter took the hint, wrapping one arm around her. “I almost woke you up earlier, but then you calmed down again.”

“But it didn't work, it tricked me again and I was so close,” she said, letting out her frustration before pursing her lips into an angry pout. Giving her time to calm down, Peter ran his hand over her back without making the mistake to tell her to relax.

Lydia was still shaking, remembering vividly how the cold water had crept up her legs. The looming danger that wasn't quite severe enough to let her wake up on her own. She looked again at the crystal, shocked by how it had changed. But it had done the job, her hand still stung a bit but there was no indication the injury had become real like the previous ones. When she untied the crystal she saw that it was as smooth looking at ever. There was just a lot of sweat glittering on her palm.

“Tell me, Lydia,” Peter’s voice was calm but firm. “What did you see?”

Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself together. “I didn’t see anything. I mean, when I saw it, it had no head. I was moving but there was no face to see …”

“What else was missing, was there anything else that stuck out?”

She shook her head. Not just to make it clear that there was nothing to see but also because she refused to believe that this had been for nothing. Despite her abilities in the area of dreaming being so astoundingly progressive, she still wasn’t able put them to good use. The only good thing that came out of it was that Peter wasn't making her feel worse about it. He patiently offered a shoulder for her to cry on and even tried to see if there was something she might have missed.

“Try closing your eyes,” he continued, “I know it’s not pleasant to remember but picture it, describe the thing to me.”

“There was this horrible stench of rotten fish,” Lydia began even though she thought it was useless, but she described the details. How his boots were old and crusted with mud and blood, the torn, dirty linen trousers and the long shirt, which were both significantly stained with rusted red and other dirt. “It was missing both hands, not just the one. It had nothing sticking out of that blood caked shirt - no head, no hands. Just stumps.”

Her stomach turned remembering how rotten those cut off ends had looked. To her surprise Peter didn't demand more details, he was just pulling her closer. After stroking over her head for a few moments, he said: “It’s as I feared.”

Lydia knew he had hinted at this maybe taking longer, that she should rest before trying tonight. Right now she felt worn out and tired. She had been so convinced that she could pull this off but now she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough or if she even wanted to be. “That identifying it will take longer?”

“No,” he said and moved so he was looking right at her. “You did that, already. I know what we’re dealing with.”

“I did? But …” her voice trailed off, if that was a bad thing and she could tell it was from his voice. “... isn’t that a good thing?”

Peter sighed. “That part, yes. Only that of all the possibilities Yoon and I had in mind, this is the absolutely worst possibility. I’m afraid, that it’ll make things more difficult for you.”

“Why?” Lydia could tell that he was contemplating if he should tell her. “What is it? I’ve a right to know.”

To show that she might be upset but far from cracking, she withdrew out of the embrace and looked at him firmly. She wasn't taking no for an answer.

“Okay, there are many names for that thing - but the most descriptive would be: Greater Zombie Master,” he said as if he was aware how silly that sounded. Yet, there was nothing even remotely silly about this. His face became serious seconds later. “It’s called that because it’s basically an intelligent zombie that controls and makes other zombies. It can animate the dead, but it can also take parts of animals and forge them into something new.”

An exerted breath escaped her. This perfectly explained why the bitemarks didn’t match an actual animal. It also explained the undead beasts that had chased her in that dream where she had hurt her wrist. As if Frankenstein’s pet attack dogs and whatever else was mixed in wasn’t enough, Lydia knew there was more bad news to come.

“The real problem is, that it cannot only raise an army, it’s indestructible in its current form.”

“You mean, that there’s no way you can destroy it, even if we can find it?” Lydia said fearfully.

“The only way to do that would be to reunite it with its hands and head. Then it’s just a weak decayed body again. But you’re the only one who has a chance to find where it has hidden them.”

“How, through dreams?” Lydia was aware that she had a knack for finding dead bodies but those were all recent kills, she had no idea how finding body parts of something that had died a long time ago was going to work. She wasn't fond of the idea either.

Peter nodded. “It won’t be easy. You’ve a talent for this, but to find those parts will require some exercise and time. It will try to stop you, because right now you’re the only one who stands between it and this town.”

“What will it do if we can’t stop it?” Lydia asked. Part of her felt he was exaggerating another part feared he might not.

Clearing his throat, he stood up. “Have you heard of the island of Croatoan? I’m sure you have, it’s the foster child of mysterious disappearances. Comes up often enough in popular fiction. The truth of the matter is, one of those things came to the island and when it wasn’t stopped, it killed every last person living there. It’s how those things operate. They take a small settlement, kill people to gain more power, use that power to build up an army, and eventually…” He ended with a sigh.

“But in this day and age it can’t just depopulate an entire town.” Lydia yelled in disbelief.

“It can seal off communications, alter people’s perception and short term memory, the more people it kills the stronger it will get. I’m sure it’ll be a great modern day mystery.”

“Just like Miss Blake,” she stated flatly.

This was all a bit too much, she had processed the raw information but the implications made her head spin. At the very most she had thought she would need to get an idea where the thing was hiding after identifying it but that it was something that might go after Beacon Hills, something that could raise an army of undead beings, it was much more than she had expected.

“Only this thing’s more calculating, it’s not going to take any chances, it’s not going to make the same dumb mistakes,” he pointed out almost as if he admired it. There was certainly an enthusiasm behind the way he described that thing’s ability.

“You said it’s intelligent, was it ever a person or something?” It was probably not the most important aspect but it was like the one thing that was missing. There was no motivation, it was just doing this but to what end? As crazy and deluded Miss Blake had been with her revenge at least there was a reason for it, a goal that she pursued. “Is there something it wants?”

Peter shrugged. “Power.” He said it, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Sure, once upon a time it was human.”

“How did he become like that?” she shook her head.

“He was someone who always made zombies, ritual magic or praying to ancient gods, who knows,” he leaned against the door. “Do you know why some of us have blue eyes?”

Lydia nodded, Stiles had told her about that. Peter’s little excursion on how Derek got his and how Stiles was entirely convinced that he had been spinning the story his way. Even though, it seemed to be a fact that taking an innocent life, whatever qualified as innocent, would turn the eye-colour from yellow to blue. Jackson had them, in her room Deucalion had them as well, she had never seen Peter’s or Derek’s eyes when they were transformed but knew that from the story.

“Well,” he said sounding almost solemn when he spoke, “whoever he was, he has taken so much innocent life that at some point nothing of his soul, self whatever you want to call it, was left. His only purpose is to gain more power. There's nothing else left.”

“That’s sounds so meaningless,” she looked up at him.

He wasn't just saying it. Peter understood what it meant to trade power for a piece of himself. Lydia thought she understood what he was hiding under his detached demeanour. It was fear but not of facing off against this zombie lord thing, he was afraid to become like it. That at some point he would sacrifice too much for power.

“Why would anyone need so much power?” What she wanted to ask was why he needed the power but Lydia knew he wouldn't tell her. If he even got a hint that she had seen something more than he wanted her to know, she wouldn't figure out anything else.

“If you’re like us, and you are now,” he said without gloating, just as a matter of fact. “You need to be able to protect yourself - from the Argents, their hunter buddies, other supernatural beings - because you’re on their radar and they will come after you, no matter what. They’ll not just come for you - they target everyone around you.” He shrugged and placed his hand on the door as if he wanted to close it on the way out. “Then again, some people just like power.”

He smiled and then he switched off the light, “Better get some rest now.”

Lydia laid back, her mind was racing but she was running out of steam. Sleeping was probably a good idea, even she needed to calm down a bit first. She grabbed the crystal in her hand more firmly, it had protected her body but there was no guarantee she would be able to avoid any more dreams.

As Peter closed the door and the patch of light on the carpet became smaller. Lydia told herself this was the point to say good night but instead, when the patch was nothing more than a line, she called out his name. He stopped and the door open a bit.

“Yes, Lydia?” he asked as if he already knew what she was going to ask.

At least she was certain that he wasn’t going to say no. It wasn’t that hard to ask. “You think, you could behave for another night?”

He sounded somewhat between gleeful and just happy. “Just a moment.”

Pushing the door open again, he walked into the living room. Lydia shifted to her side to watch him. He picked up his phone and pressed a button on his laptop. She saw him texting very quickly, couldn’t have been more than a few letters. Then he grabbed the pillow from the couch and switched off the light.

He didn’t need it to find his way to her side, even in the dark the pillow landed exactly next to hers. After he closed the door for good, Lydia heard him undressing. Once finished Peter lifted her blanket. As he climbed over her Lydia felt how warm Peter was. As he pressed himself against her she thought that her friends would be so disappointed with her if they saw this. Then feeling all warm and safe from any more zombie master dreams, Lydia really didn’t care anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the idea for the creature from the game Chill, which had many of its elements used in the old show Poltergeist: The Legacy, but it's much older than that. A classical horror game, just tweaked it a bit to fit in with these type o werewolves, but I thought I give credit to the idea of the creature where it belongs and heh it's an awesome RPG system and everyone should now about it.


	21. The Grand Scheme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After successfully finding out what the thing in her dreams is, Lydia is in for a few more revelations and not all of them are to her liking.
> 
>  
> 
> _They weren't surprised to see her, most likely having heard her in the bathroom. Naira was sitting at the dinner table while Peter sat on the couch with the laptop on his knees._  
>  _“Slept well?” he asked._  
>  _It seemed kind of obvious that he knew she did. Lydia didn’t felt like allowing him to take credit for that. “I would have slept even better if had my own bed to sleep in.” She wanted to add that have her bed to herself but she knew that wouldn’t have been the case._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Soul of the Wind](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/996400/) who beta-read this chapter for me and sorry for taking so long, feeling a bit under the weather at the moment.

Lydia felt warm when she woke up, but it wasn't the heat of another body that made her feel this way. As she looked around her, she saw that the sun was shining on her. The blinds were wide open allowing the dark satin sheets to absorb all the warmth. Lydia assumed it was closer to noon by the position of the sun. There was no alarm clock or watch to give her a more precise idea of the time.

Stretching under the covers she was not quite ready to get up; not because Lydia had not slept well, but because it was so comfortable. As she yawned and turned, snuggling against the blanket, she heard Naira and Peter’s voices from behind the door. They were talking about going someplace and doing something together now that Rubèn was in need of more rest.

It turned out, they were of course waiting for her, because obviously she could not be left alone. Lydia sighed, she hated to be reminded of the fact that she had not only a homicidal werewolf coming after her but also a bloodthirsty zombie lord who was powerful enough to murder her in her sleep. Making her wonder if maybe her parents mundane life wasn’t that bad in comparison. It certainly wasn’t an option for her anymore, she was stuck in this supernatural mess.

Curiosity won out. Lydia wondered what the others were up to and she certainly wanted to know more about what they were doing now that they knew about one of the beings involved in the killing spree in Beacon Hills. She put on the robe and freshened up in the bathroom, deciding that she might shower later, if she knew for what occasion to get dressed. Not that she had the best selection of clothes with her.

They weren't surprised to see her, most likely having heard her in the bathroom. Naira was sitting at the dinner table while Peter sat on the couch with the laptop on his knees.

“Slept well?” he asked.

It seemed kind of obvious that he knew she did. Lydia didn’t felt like allowing him to take credit for that. “I would have slept even better if had my own bed to sleep in.” She wanted to add that have her bed to herself but she knew that wouldn’t have been the case.

“I don’t blame you for being upset, but we’re going to solve this,” Peter said, carefully weighing his words. “Then we’ll see about where you really want to sleep.”

Lydia shook her head, almost admiring his persistence. Nonetheless, there was something about this notion that whatever happened, she was bound to see just how much better she would be off with him, that really made her feel uncomfortable.

Even though she had begun to feel surprising comfortable with the arrangement so far. Lydia was aware she shouldn't feel this way and guilt over it put a damper on everything.

The way she had left things with Aiden was absolutely horrible. Even though she hadn't exactly wanted it to go that way, she knew the damage was probably too great overcome. It might be fixable if she cared enough, if she honestly loved Aiden. That was the most glaring problem: she just did not. She liked him, Aiden had worked wonders when it came to distracting her from feeling miserable about Jackson dumping her not once but twice, but she hadn't been ready or even wanted something permanent.

For the longest time she had thought Aiden was perfectly alright with this. As it turned out he did care more about her than he had let on. Lydia thought maybe him going up against Kali and thus by extension Deucalion showed that and she just didn't want to see it for what it was. He, and also Ethan, had done nothing but look out for her to the best of their abilities, even though sometimes Aiden’s reactions had been less than helpful.

Now, Lydia was asked by the woman who shot Ethan, if she wanted breakfast. “I’m not sure if you drink coffee, but there’s tea.” Naira continued, seeming rather happy with offering. “I must say even for a bachelor kitchen, Peter’s badly stocked. But I went out and bought some oranges and fresh toast.”

“Thanks,” Lydia answered a bit taken back, “I guess, I should eat - sounds like you have something planned for today.”

Naira smiled and walked over to the kitchen, “Might take a moment, not sure you’ve time to get dressed though.”

“That’s okay, we’re in no hurry,” Peter said and shut the top of his laptop. “Yoon won’t be able to come by until later tonight, but she’ll try to find out more about our Zombie Lord problem.”

Then there was this pause as if he thought about telling her something else and Lydia took the continuing silence as a sign that Peter decided against that. She wasn’t having any of that. “What is it?” she demanded to know.

Exhaling and exchanging glances with Naira, Peter finally threw up his hand. “Why not? You have a right to know. Last night, probably shortly before you went to sleep, there was another attack.”

“The Zombie Master?” Lydia felt somewhat numb, she knew there wasn't anything she could’ve done to prevent it but she still felt badly about the bodies piling up and wondering how many more there would be before she was able to find these particular body parts.

“Two students - probably a year below you - they were making out in a parking lot and had their romantic time cut short,” Peter rolled his eyes. “I suppose their parents were now wishing they’d been a bit more open minded about their sons being gay.”

“We don’t know any names yet - just that they were 16 and went to Beacon Hills High school.”

“And that they both disregarded curfew,” Lydia said flatly.

If she had ever questioned the value of that arbitrary deadline to stay home, she had now proof that it had it’s use. But it couldn't be the answer to everything, teens should be free to make out in a car in the middle of nowhere. After all not all parents were so open minded and let their sons or daughters bring their boyfriends or girlfriends home.

“It’s a bad time to be a teenager in Beacon Hills,” Peter mused and then added, “Well, not sure there is ever a good time to be one.”

“So what else are we doing today?” Lydia asked to change the topic.

Whatever Peter and his pack had planned for today, she hoped it was nothing that would create more conflict between them and her friends. That was spot she didn't want to be caught in the middle of. It was bad enough that was able to give Peter an alibi for one of the killings, which she hoped would not be necessary, but useful and also aggravating if her friends kept insisting Peter was behind those killings.

Even though they should be happy, that with her help Peter had identified one of the killers or rather the puppet master behind the killings, Lydia imagined her friends being less than thrilled that the answer came from Peter. Yet, it seemed to make so much sense that he’d be able to do this, given how he was always looking for more knowledge and had was part witch, too.

Peter leaned back and made himself comfortable on the couch. “Since Rubèn is out of commission, at least when it comes to fighting, Naira’s going to spar with me. So we’re heading out into the woods.”

“Oh wonderful,” Lydia rolled her eyes. She had never been too fond of the great outdoors and since her two day naked sprint through the woods Lydia had grown a deeper dislike of it.

“Not much of a nature child?” Naira said amused from behind the kitchen counter.

“That’s probably my fault,” Peter admitted but without the slightest hint of guilt. “Without intending to I’ve made her run naked through the forest .”

“For two days,” Lydia fumed, not believing the unintentional bit.

Peter grinned. “If only I could figure out how I did that …”

There was no telling if he was serious about it, but Lydia wasn’t amused. She gave him a scathing look before she heard Naira speak up. “Well, nature child after all.”

Lydia wanted to say something as she felt flustered by the comment until she saw the smile on her face and realised it had been meant humorously. That was certainly more than she could say about the other kids at school. She had done her best to ignore the looks and whispers but ultimately Lydia couldn't deny that the way everyone had looked at her as if she were some kind of freak. That had gotten to her.

It had been one of the reasons why she had felt so close to the vision of the younger Peter, who had made her feel somewhat normal. Of course, when she had found out who he was and that he hadn't even been there, the betrayal had stung even worse. At least, if not physical he had been real after all, but for a time she had felt like one of those lunatics: going out of her mind with a voice telling them what to do. It had exactly been that, with the difference that the voice had been Peter and he had been all too real in the end. This whole supernatural thing wasn't a made up unnatural fantasy anymore for her. It was part of the natural word even though it couldn't be quite explained by scientific methods. At least it defied most tools of observation and that made it so hard to make sense of all of this. Like the Greater Zombie master reaching out to her through her dreams and for some reason Peter blocking that.

Lydia didn't need to wait long before, Naira brought her a fantastic breakfast. The type of breakfast her mom had made for her before she had outgrown playing house: none of that icky fatty stuff that clogged the pores, but delicious whole wheat toast, low fat bacon with relatively fresh salad and an orange already peeled with the slices ready to be eaten. Rounded up by a steamy cup of tea.

“It’s not much,” Naira said and sat down, “but I already used the other stuff to make sandwiches for later. And I hope I did alright, ‘cause usually Rubèn does all the cooking.”

Not sure if Naira was again bringing up that he had been badly injured to make it harder for Lydia to be mad at her for shooting Ethan or if she was honestly worried about the outcome. Then Peter said from the couch, “If Rubèn or anyone complains they can do them the next time.”

The two women looked at each other and laughed. Peter sounded like this was totally irrelevant to him, as Naira had pointed out earlier: typical bachelor kitchen with a bare minimum of supplies. Clearly, those bookmarked restaurant pages where the main source of Peter’s dinners.

“So what does Rubèn do then, when he’s not chasing crooks with you?” Lydia decided to ask, surprisingly out of real interest. While it was certainly not accurate, when a man cooked that immediately made her think he might be a chef.

“He actually has a Master in Chemistry and a bachelor in Mathematics”, Naira began and then looked in Peter’s direction as if she wasn't sure if she should continue. Lydia looked over as well and Peter just shrugged. “Rubèn is going to be your new chemistry teacher.”

“You really planned this out,” Lydia said feeling slightly chilly about this.

Naira smiled. “Well, it wasn't that hard to get the permanent teaching positions - not with Rubèn’s credentials, the ongoing killings and the high school's reputation for teachers dying an unnatural death.”

That was a good point, their substitute teachers had changed every other week, but the thought of one of Peter’s betas being in the school in an official capacity was weird. It would create tension with her friends. Since she felt actually hungry she just gave an agreeing nod and finished her breakfast in silence.

Almost, since she still had two orange slices left when the door of the guestroom opened and Rubèn walked out.

On his chest and belly were deep reddish scars, where Ethan claws had torn him open. Lydia realised she had forgotten how dangerous both Twins could be. Just because Ethan seemed more reasonable didn't mean that he couldn't be dangerous either, whether he started this or not, those injuries looked pretty serious. Despite his overall healthy skin tone, Rubèn looked rather pale and his steps were taken with care.

“Morning?” he said looking around.

Lydia assumed he was looking for a clock, being just as disoriented about the time as she had been when waking up. Now, that she thought about it, she had no idea what time it was either. It just hadn't occurred to her to ask after the warm welcome from Naira. Watching her go over to her man and carefully hug him, kissing him and wishing him a good morning, it was so hard to see her as someone who shot people unprovoked. It wasn't much different from seeing Ethan with Danny though, only that she knew from the others about the twins beating each other up and their readiness to engage in violence. There was Boyd, as much as they might regret that in hindsight - they had helped to kill him.

“Look at you, mi forajido”, Naira said, kissing him gently on the lips, before she leaned against his shoulder. “I thought those wounds would never close.”

Rubèn wrapped his arm around her and rested his head on hers. Lydia had to admit they were really cute couple for people over thirty.

“I told you he’d be fine.” In a swift move Peter stood up looked at his wounds before rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing sadder than seeing a wolf being so domesticated.”

Ruben laughed a bit and then snuggled up with his cheek against Naira’s hair. She on the other hand reached for a cushion from the sofa and threw it into Peter’s face. Lydia was sure he was quick enough to grab it before the impact but Peter just let it hit and fall back on the sofa. Making a mental note of this, she was sure that this might prove useful later if she wanted to throw Peter off guard. Maybe not cutesy little nicknames but some gentle affection was certainly something that got to him.

“I assure you, when he’s in top form, he’s everything but,” Naira said and let out a suggestive little growl.

“TMI,” Peter stated, even though he and Rubèn shared a very meaningful looking glance.

Remembering the incredible intensity of the sex during that ritual, Lydia began feeling warm and like she understood exactly what those two meant. “I’m going to get dressed,” Lydia said and practically fled the scene.

“I’m going to get you a shirt,” Peter said to Rubèn before he followed her into bedroom. Lydia had expected him to say something to her but instead he went to the mirror covered wall of wardrobes and took out a shirt and a sweater.

“I need to get a working cell phone - with my number or at least I need to be able to give my parents the new number,” Lydia sighed, the thought that her parents would get involved in this and got hurt scared her.

“We can go shopping tomorrow, then you can call them,” Peter looked at her as if he tried to read for what purpose she wanted to contact them. In theory she could complicate everything by telling them parts of what happened.

“What if they call today, what if they already called?” Lydia pointed out. If he was worried that she intended to make trouble, she was willing to admit that she had no such intentions. “I honestly don’t want them to get involved. I want to make sure they stay away for as long as possible.”

“Don’t worry, they won’t interfere,” Peter told her calmly.

Despite his neutral expression the words alarmed her. “What do you mean?”

“I tell you about it later,” he said turning towards the door.

“No, you tell me now,” Lydia wasn’t going to let him get away with it. She was just a bit surprised with how loud she had spoken. Peter stopped in his tracks and looked at her for a moment. “If you insist.”

“I do,” she said again wondering if there was ever anything that upset him. The only instance she recalled was his reaction towards Deucalion which sent a shiver over her skin.

“No, reason to fret, it’s nothing bad,” he leaned against the commode holding the clothes for Ruben in front of him. “You remember the potion I used for the bath?” She nodded, feeling even more tense at this reminder, and Peter continued. “I ordered a little charm from the same witch. Your parents believe you are already eightteen.”

A big loud “what” was burning in her mind but it came out just as feeble little word. Two weeks before her birthday her parents had told her about this new job offer and that they would spend a lot more time in L.A., that when she turned eighteen they would rent out the house, under the condition that she could still live there. Lydia hadn't taken it serious at this time but it explained a lot about her mother constantly taking so many clothes with her. With all the killings they had almost moved away and just Lydia insisting that she wanted to stay here had convinced them not to. So much about her parent’s behaviour made suddenly sense.

But she had been too wrapped up with her research and spending time with her friends that she hadn't really noticed. Lydia was used to her parents never having much time. She was good at ignoring stuff if she wanted to.

“You planned all of this,” Lydia felt all the colour drain from her cheek. “This wasn't about protecting them, you wanted them out of the way so you had better access to me.”

He shrugged. “I’ve always said you’re smart. In a way, I did protect them - maybe not from this particular danger - but being around a banshee is dangerous for ordinary people.”

It should come as no surprise, she had know he had been planning this but the implication for this far reaching plan were truly sinister. Sooner or later she would have noticed that her parents weren’t returning then the charm would have been exposed. Unless, she kept silent which she most likely only have done if something threatened their lives and without the killing sprees she was pretty sure that threat would have been Peter.

Too speechless for words, she let him walk out and sat down on the bed. Every irrational, emotional part of her wanted to rush out of the door, but she was too numb. As she began thinking about the consequences, she realized the way things were she couldn't just do that. The situation was too serious and whatever Peter wanted from her was a worry that could wait until people stopped dropping dead every other day.

Trying to stand up her knees trembled badly and she let herself sink down again. Lydia told herself she shouldn't be surprised that Peter had a sinister plan. It was good to find out now, as she had already felt too comfortable here. It was her own mistake for forgetting what a manipulative and ruthless bastard he was.

After taking in a few deep breath she stood up, got her clothes out, and then set a new record for the quickest shower of her life. She had no intention of hanging around for long in the bathroom. Being naked was only half of the problem. Seeing that her neck had turned blue and purple along with the cold surroundings of this bathroom made her think about Deucalion’s attack on her.

Instead she rushed back to the bedroom and was glad that she had packed some sensible clothes for being outdoors. Lydia put on jeans, a shirt and a sweater. Around this time of the year walking around the woods in a short skirt wasn't the best idea. She just wished she had a better selection, because this sweater wasn’t a good match with these jeans. The shoes weren't the best either for whatever they planned to do later on.

As Lydia walked into the main room, she saw that Rubèn was also fully clothed and busy eating a late breakfast. With Naira at his side he sat facing the sofa, where Peter lounged with a particularly bored expression. They looked at her briefly when she entered the room but didn’t stop their conversation.

“... you think they know?” Rubèn asked.

“They’ll find out soon enough, Deaton knows already - secrecy doesn't count for much anymore,” Peter replied and got up.

“What secrets?” she asked.

Naira smiled. “Yoon said you’ve already figured it out.”

They had been talking about Yoon being Peter’s emissary and Lydia wondered what the Twins might do to Yoon if they knew. Had they already figured it out? There had to be a reason why Ethan showed up at the shop. It had to be something he noticed in the shop. It had occurred to her before but it only made her wonder if she hadn't chatted so long with Yoon all of this might not have happened. Throwing her hair back, she took a deep breath refusing to accept that her wanting to talk to someone was in any way responsible. The twins only wanted to protect her. In doing as much, they also decided whom she is allowed to talk to and Lydia didn't like that one bit. If they were simply protecting her, they would head her wishes, but they went a step further and were controlling her. Just as Peter tried to do and she had enough of it.

“Do you honestly think that the twins would go after Yoon, if they found out?” Lydia asked all of them even though a more urgent request burned on her mind.

Peter shrugged. “With those two? Who knows? They aren't exactly known for being great thinkers. Putting Yoons abilities and her wit against their brute force, I’d bet on her every time.”

“You know her best,” Naira agreed seeming less worried.

Rubèn wasn't as easy convinced. “Is it really your confidence in her or do you merely not care that much. After all you never really trusted the druids.”

“I’ve reasonably faith in her,” Peter said entirely unoffended by being questioned like this. “The moment I got to know her, she’d be the perfect emissary for me. Honestly, I’m probably the only alpha who’d accept Yoon.”

“So are we ready to go then?” Naira said looking at Lydia.

This was the moment, taking a step forward, Lydia put her feet firmly on the ground. “Not yet, before we go, I want to call my parents.”

Proud with how firm her voice sounded, she tried to match it with stares. The two betas looked confused at them, she had seen Naira briefly as she spoke and could make out Rubèn’s surprised mimic behind Peter. As in most situations he wasn't really phased by this open challenge, she was sure he let her sweat for a moment on purpose. If he said no, she doubted that the other two would side with her, so Lydia knew this could turn potentially nasty if Peter didn’t let her call them.

“Of course,” he finally said and picked up the spare cell from the couch table and rose. As he handed it to her Peter calmly stated leaning in: “Just don’t blame me, if you break the spell and bring them back to the battlefield.”

Lydia felt a frown appear on her face. She hated it so much that by serving his own nefarious purposes, Peter had actually removed her parents out of harms way. “As long as I don’t contradict their beliefs about my age, that shouldn’t be a problem - should it?”

“I’m confident you’ll find the right words.” Peter stated despite having hinted that she might not.

Somewhat annoyed and not really feeling obliged to be grateful, she took the phone and strode back to the bedroom. Her mother’s cell phone was one of the numbers she could remember easily despite always using the built-in phonebook to call her. The cell rang for a long time and Lydia feared her mother might be away from it, getting a facial or pedicure.

Then her mother’s curious voice was on the line. “Eleanor Martin, who is this?”

Hearing that voice, however posh it sounded, was making Lydia feel a lot better. “Mom, it’s me, Lydia.”

“Oh, Darling, something wrong with your phone?” Her mother’s spot on conclusion made her laugh a bit hysterical for a second. It was so right and yet such an understatement. Luckily, she caught herself in time and replied much calmer: “Someone destroyed it. I thought I better call you in case you got worried.”

“Oh, that is so thoughtful - but you’ve always taken care of yourself and I’m sure once that nice young man moves in, you’ll be much safer with everything going on.”

There her jaw dropped again, suddenly she made the connection between her parents mentioning that maybe they could rent the place out and Peter’s little memory alteration. Her parents had not planned to go on a long spring break trip to connect business and pleasure. Her mom had not just moved more clothes to her dad’s place because they were getting back together. As always they had talked to her about this life changing events in such a discreet way that it totally gone over her head. Lydia felt a bit ill, when she realised that her parents had actually mentioned not three weeks ago that they’d hoped there be time for the three of them to get acquainted with whomever would move in once Lydia would be eighteen.

Which for her parents had been last week - but as always her dad’s job had come first. If they ignored her sweet sixteen why not her coming of age birthday?

Lydia had no doubt that Peter had been able to charm the hell out of her parents, enough to entrust the house and her safety to him. They probably hadn’t counted on this happening so soon, they had after all said at the end of spring break the wanted her to meet someone. Holding back a groan of frustration, she asked: “Yeah, I’ve met him.”

“Oh, that is wonderful - has he mentioned when he’s moving in? I’d feel so much better knowing there’s a man in the house.”

Lydia doubted her mother would feel that way if she told her that it had been Peter who had attacked her after the formal but she held her breath. “Probably as soon as the repairs are done,” Lydia had begun, “There was a break-in today, my windows got damaged and now I’m staying with friends.”

“Oh my, are you alright?” Her mother said concerned. “Is the damage bad? Should we come back?”

“No need,” Lydia said and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Everything will be taken care of. I’m fine.”

“I know we probably should’ve involved you more, but there was so little time. We signed the lease yesterday so tomorrow the lawyer should have it. Why not let Mr. Hale handle this,” her mother said sounding unsure if she should trust Lydia’s assessment of being fine.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he will,” Lydia replied, doing her best to hide the cynicism in her voice.

“If there’s anything that troubles you - do remember going to therapy - it helped you so much the last time,” her mother said fairly enthusiastical.

She had of course no idea that her visions and most of her erratic behaviour had ebbed away because she hadn’t a psychotic undead werewolf spooking through her head anymore. It was a reminder how much removed her mother was from the reality of Lydia’s life in Beacon Hills. Lydia couldn’t resist to find out what could possible have compelled her parents to place that kind of trust in a person they barely knew.

“I know you mentioned this,” Lydia sighed recalling how she had been totally uninterested in hearing about someone renting the house under the condition that she could stay there, “but honestly what do you even know about him?”

“Don’t worry, we vetted him thoroughly - trust us, Darling,” her mother said, being so blissfully ignorant toward the truth. “He hasn’t even gotten a parking ticket and he’s so nice. Don’t you think so?”

“Yes, he seems very nice,” Lydia lied through her teeth - literally - while putting an emphasis on seems that swept by her mother.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” her mother began, “your dad and I are invited and I still need to get dressed properly.”

“Sure, mom,” she replied disillusioned, “have fun.”

“Thank you, darling and call if there’s anything.”

After ending the call, Lydia let out a deep sigh. While she knew she couldn’t have know about her parents being bewitched, it was still typical of them to make these decisions almost completely without her. It hurt. Lydia was used to being left alone ever since she was little, but seeing how fast her mother jumped at the chance to resume their socialite big city life was particularly painful.

Yet, it had been easy for Lydia not to disrupt the spell. She knew her mother or even her dad wouldn’t come back to Beacon Hills any time soon. With another sigh, she fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

While Lydia had come to appreciate the fact that Peter helped her with the Greater Zombie Freak that went after her in her dreams and was willing to stop the killings, she hated the precision with which he was taken over her life. It made her feel powerless and weak, especially since she didn't trust herself with him. It was an all around infuriating situation.

Getting a better idea about what Peter’s long term plans were was making her afraid was else she might discover. This current crisis was clearly just a roadblock for him and Lydia had the feeling that Peter would turn his attention to the other werewolves as soon as it was out of the way.

Even though Lydia had heard Peter enter the room some time after she had hung up, she didn't bother to acknowledge his presence: she was excessively staring holes in the ceiling. He sat down on the bed next to her and Lydia was aware that he was staring at her. It was like he was trying to break off a staring contest. Lydia wasn't in the mood for games. So she sat up and the moment she saw that amused curl of his lips, she reacted almost involuntary.

With one hard push she nearly got him off the bed. Instead of falling over the side, Peter caught his balance and with a quick motion he pushed her back. Seconds later he straddled and thus trapped her. Peter began slowly leaning down towards her. Angry and overcome with a slight feeling of panic, she slapped him. Which was doing nothing, Peter didn't even stopped his movement.

Remembering vaguely what Allison had told her about self defence, Lydia aimed with her palm for his nose and put all her energy into the hit. It was no effort for him to grab her wrist and the other when she tried to slap him with her free hand. Both hands were now trapped behind her head and Peter was just inches away from kissing her.

Lydia shivered despite this feeling of intense warmth going through her body. Her nipples were hard and rubbed against the fabric of her shirt with every impossible long breath she took.

“Get off of me!” Lydia yelled.

Her voice was filled with anger, but she felt it shake a bit. It wasn't like she could stop him, even though she wasn't entirely sure she wanted him to. Lydia felt that if this kiss happened, she wouldn't be able to say no once it was over. When it came to sex, she never saw a good reason to say no to a hot guy, but this was different. There were plenty of reasons to say no to Peter.

It seemed to work. He stopped and then in a quick move sat upright. A very calculated looking disappointment loomed over his face. Seconds later Lydia felt his weight being lifted from her and Peter stood beside the bed. “Here, I thought you wanted to express your anger in a more constructive way.”

“Give me a bottle and I’ll be happy to express my anger appropriately,” Lydia shot back.

“That didn’t seem to do you much good last time,” he said clearly amused. “With your apparent need for closeness, I just went to the obvious conclusion.”

Peter might try to turn this into her sending the wrong signal to him but she wasn't going to let him. His smirk alone told Lydia that this whole scene had been a demonstration of power. She considered whether this was also a warning. Her attempts to throw him off by initiating contact had worked and maybe this was his way to tell her to stop.

“Believe me, when I’m in the mood for sex, I’m more than capable to use very clear words.”

It was true and yet saying it to Peter felt weird, but she needed to make this clear. There was still the chance that Peter wouldn't really care, as he had clearly demonstrated on her birthday. Yet, Lydia appreciated that she had backed up immediately, when she told him to. She liked to think that the ritual had been a one time occasion.

“You think far too much about sex.” Peter replied with a shrug. “I actually just wanted to kiss you.” Then he looked at her just long enough to take in the sour look on her face, before he turned and walked out of the room. When he reached the door, he asked. “Are you coming?”

“I guess me not going isn't an option?”

It was more a rhetorical question, but she got her answer almost the next second. “No.”

As protesting needlessly wasn't her style and getting some fresh air was certainly not the worst thing in the world, she stood up, got her jacket and walked out into the living room with her head held high. Peter had already slipped into a grey jacket and she wondered where Naira and Rubèn were. Without saying much more, Peter opened the door of the apartment and waited until she had walked out. Then he locked it and they headed towards the elevator.


	22. A touch of nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia along with Peter and his new pack head out to the woods to train Naira when two unexpected "guests" show up.
> 
> _Naira walked over, and crouched next to Rubèn. “Any hints?”_   
> _“Well, keep in mind you’re not tracking just a person - you’re tracking a werewolf. You can’t rely on your usual tracking skills, you need to primarily use your senses: especially smell and hearing,” Rubèn said, sounding very serious._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-read, as I'm currently beta-less again ... *sighs* If the fact that every single of my past betas so far has been struck by personal tragedy or just disappeared (on me, can't say if they were abducted by aliens or not ;)) doesn't frighten you please let me know.

Rubèn and Naira were waiting for them in the garage. Leaning against the Jeep, Naira was carefully pressing herself against Rubèn and they were busy kissing like teenagers. When Lydia and Peter approached them, those two just smiled at each other and then got into the car: Naira behind the driver’s seat and Rubèn next to her. That left the back seat for her and Peter.

Lydia didn’t feel like talking and Peter seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Naira more than made up for that, sharing enthusiastically how alive and energetic she felt. It all boiled down to her clearly enjoying her transformation. There was none of that awkward brooding charm that Scott had displayed or the dickish anxiety of Jackson. From Rubèn’s replies, Lydia learned that this trip wasn’t just about Naira learning to handle her new senses better but also to gain control over her new excess energy.

“The full moon will be here quicker than you can imagine,” Peter eventually said.

Naira drove the Jeep out of the city and onto an uneven but broad path in the woods. Even before they arrived Lydia realised where they were headed. It was a place she was all too familiar with: the old Hale house, where she had brought Peter back from the dead.

“Why here?” Lydia asked when they stopped.

“Why not?” Peter replied, “You think I’ll avoid the place just because of what happened here?”

It was so typical that he immediately assumed this was about him and not about her possible discomfort. Lydia didn’t say anything, after all she hadn’t thought for one second that this place might bring up some past demons for Peter.. She sighed softly, feeling that maybe it wasn’t so unreasonable of him to not think about her experiences her when his involved witnessing his family burning to death her, not to mention the other things that happened here.

Despite him making it sound as if questioning their choice of location was the most unreasonable thing, Lydia felt that it was just deflection: Peter got out of the car very quickly and he hadn’t actually looked at her. It made her think, he just came here to show that he didn’t care. Maybe Lydia was wrong and Peter didn’t care but she doubted it.

“I could imagine a more cheerful place to train,” Rubén said to Peter as Lydia opened her door and left the car.

“It’s remote, I know the area and the house at the very least provides cover,” Peter explained and then looked over to Lydia. “Just in case hunters show up.”

“Yeah, and if it rains, we don’t get wet,” Naira added with a smile.

Lydia sighed, standing so close to the house made her feel bad. If she had a choice, she would avoid the place, but if Peter could act as if it did not bother him, then Lydia could do the same. Seeing that Rufus sat down on the steps leading up to the house, she decided to join him.

“I guess we’re going to spend the rest of the day here?” Lydia said to Rubèn.

“Well, so far I’ve been doing this alone with her”, he told her, “but since I’m still not at a hundred percent. Besides Peter’s the alpha, it can’t hurt if he gets a bit more involved.”

“Believe me,” Peter said from a few steps away, “if it wasn’t for two undead killers calling negative attention to this place, I’d be more invested.”

“It’s okay,” Naira shrugged and took her coat off. “Rubèn is a born wolf - so he knows the basics just as well.”

Lydia shivered just seeing Naira’s naked arms. She imagined someone that muscular was probably producing a lot of heat but this time of year it was still a strange sight. At least Peter had on a long armed shirt.

“So,” Lydia remarked wrapping her arms tighter around her. “That’s how you spent your time? Beating each other up in the woods?”

Rubèn started to laugh but stopped soon holding his ribs. The other two werewolves had heard it as well and were equally amused.

“I guess that would be one way of looking at it,” Peter replied.

Even though he was looking at Lydia while he said it, before he had ended, he lunged in one quick dash at Naira, who had also laughed, even though a bit more restraint, at Lydia’s remark. It stopped on the spot and in one quick move she dodged the surprise attack.

“That’s my girl,” Rubèn said proudly. Lydia sighed, but she was secretly glad that the attack had missed it’s mark. Violence was something she abhorred and she had already seen enough of it yesterday when Deucalion had attacked her and the ensuing fight had trashed her room.

Since there was little else to do, Lydia did watch the ongoing fight. There were differences in the fight with Deucalion. At first she couldn’t really make out what felt different but as kept observing she noticed a few things. For once, even though their claws were out, no blood was spilled. Naira was thrown to the ground a couple of times, they landed blows on each other but seriously injuring the other party wasn’t the objective.

For the most part Naira used the fact that she had open space to evade a lot of hits, she was very fast and while she couldn’t keep up with strength, she clearly was equally matched in speed. There was one more thing that endeared Naira a lot to Lydia: Her eyes glowed a beautiful golden tone.

“I admit it gets rather boring to watch,” Rubèn suddenly said and looked at her.

“You don’t say,” Lydia replied with a sarcastic tone. Looking back him, she suddenly realised she probably was going to talk to her new chemistry teacher. They had a psychotic darach as a teacher, a semi-sane werewolf was probably not that big a deal in comparison. She began wondering what the color of Rubèn’s eyes was.

“Time for a change of strategy,” she heard Peter say.

When they looked around they say him pinning Naira to the ground and then leaning over to whisper something to her. Lydia looked at Rubèn, who didn’t seem very concerned.

“He’s saying the same as I’ve told her: she’s not relying enough on her new senses,” Rubèn explained.

Transformed back to a normal human appearance, Peter rose and walked toward both of them. Behind him Naira looking frustrated. She got up as well, shaking the leaves out of her long black hair.

“We’re going to stick around, Rubèn will know if someone or something comes close, then Naira and I will be back in moments,” Peter explained.

Lydia swallowed hard; it was a reminder that she indeed was in danger. While Peter might put an emphasis on it just to scare her and make her feel like she did need him, the memories of that zombie creature coming after her was as real as Deucalion finding her alone. She had no chance to reply, as Peter turned very quickly and disappeared into the woods.

Naira walked over, and crouched next to Rubèn. “Any hints?”

“Well, keep in mind you’re not tracking just a person - you’re tracking a werewolf. You can’t rely on your usual tracking skills, you need to primarily use your senses: especially smell and hearing,” Rubèn said, sounding very serious.

With a kiss for him and a nod to Lydia, Naira shifted back to her wolfish appearance and followed Peter. It was almost bizarre to think that the werewolves seemed to play tag but Lydia realised it wasn’t a game. It was a way to become familiar with their second nature. One reason why Scott in all his stubbornness had come to listen to Derek and Peter had been because even he knew that being born a wolf meant they knew things he had yet to learn. Judging by what Lydia had seen and what Stiles had told her, Scott had a lot phases where he still didn’t feel like listening.

Naira was different: she wanted to learn and Peter deemed it important enough to not skip a day of training for her. What they did was different than what Isaac had told Allison about everything that Derek had done with his betas.

“So,” Lydia said, “you try to teach Naira to use her new abilities.”

Ruben nodded. “Yeah, she already knows how to fight, you don’t need much training to use the increased strength or learn how to ignore wounds.”

“Scott seemed often very distracted by his improved hearing.” Lydia shuddered to think about what he could suddenly smell or the werewolves in general. Although in hindsight a lot of Scott’s oddities made more sense.

“It isn’t just the heightened senses,” Rubèn explained while leaning against a pillar. “I’ve seen it often in turned wolves: They have a hard time becoming one with the animal inside. That is where most of the problems come from. They fear to lose control and fight it, but when they lose they don’t have any control.”

It made sense that it was easier for the born werewolves, as they never knew any different. Lydia could only assume what this was like: not that she was sad about that. Her sense of style did not go with long, pointy ears. The furthest she ever went in that direction was dressing up as elf for halloween and those ears had been cute.

But she was curious and as Rubèn was definitely more talkative than Derek and probably more trustworthy than Peter she just had to ask. “How does it work when you’re born with it? I suppose if you turn as a baby every full moon that would be very stressful.”

Rubèn laughed, “Yes, it would be.” After he had calmed down a bit, primarily due to his injuries, he explained more. “The change comes more gradually than that, true some of us turn very early on but mostly the actual transformation occurs around the time you reach puberty. Even before, you do have heightened senses and they’re already a part of you. Which makes socialising with non-werewolf kids often not easy.”

Lydia wondered how often things did went wrong. From what she had seen and heard werewolves - on average - did manage to control themselves or took at least steps to ensure that nothing bad happened. Yet, there were the Argents with their code that said they would only go after the guilty once: the werewolves that had spilled innocent blood. There was something really off. Either werewolves were in denial about how well they were able to control themselves or the code was applied way too loosely. Even if some young teenwolf went out of control, Lydia wasn’t sure if she would condone shooting them for it.

It was probably a good thing that Allison had revised the code to something less vague and more positive.

“What happens if a person can’t handle it?” Lydia wondered what a pack would do if one of theirs went crazy.

If the packs didn’t take care of their rogue’s that might explain how the Argents found so many to take down. Lydia recalled Allison’s dad pointing out how dangerous werewolves were. That wasn’t a false statement, but it didn’t automatically made them killers. Lydia began to see that it was less about them being werewolves and more how well adjusted they were.

Werewolf or not - a teenager with issues could get very dangerous - the numerous shootings every year more than proved that.

“When a person survives the bite but then becomes unstable,” Rubèn paused a moment and tilted his head. ”As harsh as it might sound, but that person would be taken care off.”

Lydia nodded. It did make sense, then before she could say something, he added: “But of course some packs just sent that person off, not taking responsibility.”

“But yours didn’t?” she asked before really thinking about it.

Rubèn looked into the distance. “My father gave the bite to my sister’s fiancé. He wasn’t a stable person and well ... let’s say the marriage didn’t happen, my father and my sister didn’t talk to each other for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Lydia found herself saying, regretting that she had brought it up.

“It’s okay, I just sometimes I cannot believe that they’re really all dead, except my niece of course. But she’s with another pack now,” Rubèn said, looking genuinely sad.

“Couldn’t she join you now?” Lydia wasn’t sure that having Peter as an Alpha was the best thing for a what must be a young, traumatized teenager but she felt bad that Rubèn was cut off from his only remaining family member.

“The whole idea behind getting her into another pack was for her being safe. And honestly,” he looked around, “this is not safe. I don’t mind sticking around here, fighting what supernatural creatures latch onto the Nemeton but she shouldn’t have to go through this.”

Then he stopped and looked at her if he suddenly realised that maybe this also applied to her. Lydia certainly felt that frown upon her face. Deep down she had known that what her friends had done with that ritual was bad but in this moment she realised that it had more than just personal consequences. As long as she was here, there would be creatures that would probably be on her banshee radar or whatever it was that she could do. If Peter was right and banshees were hunted down by other supernatural creatures, just leaving wasn’t an option either.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t ask for this either,” Rubèn finally said, avoiding to look at her.

“Well, at least if I freak out during class, I know one teacher who won’t be making fun of me.”

That brought a smile to his face. “From what I heard, it’s not like one missed class or a couple is going to be a great problem for you.”

Lydia shrugged, she often felt that not going to class was a more productive, especially given what a stiff and boring teacher Harris had been. “No - but you’re going to run into a lot of problems, we’re so far behind.”

From that moment on the supernatural was forgotten for a while and they talked about chemistry, their substitute teachers and where Rubèn would have to pick up. Lydia felt like he actually cared about doing a great job and wasn’t just going through the materials and not giving a damn who kept up and who didn’t. It was nice to talk about something mundane for a change, without anything weird coming up.

Time passed by fast as Lydia described what their substitute teachers and Harris had been up to and what she thought about their teaching methods. Instead of being defensive Rubèn had his own opinion about which approach was effective. It wasn’t until he grew tense and looked around that Lydia remembered that there was a reason she spend the afternoon in the forest with three werewolves of which two hadn’t been around for a while.

“What is it?”, she asked worried.

Rubèn relaxed. “It’s them or rather Peter, Naira probably won’t be far behind.”

Lydia had to wait for two more minutes until she saw Peter stepping into the open space in front of the house. It was impressive that Rubèn had been able to tell it was Peter and not Naira or even to be so sure that it wasn’t someone else creeping up on them. “I guess, he’s not wearing whatever anti-scent he usually uses,” Lydia remarked.

“That would beat the purpose of this exercise, wouldn’t it?” he said and stretched. “Those wounds feel so much better already.”

As Peter came closer, Lydia was realising that she was actually glad to see him. It probably was just the fright when she had noticed Rubèn sensing something a few minutes ago. When Peter sat down next to her, she was relieved when she also noticed a healthy dose of anger directed at him. It was relieving because her first impulse had been to lean closer and she was not even that cold.

The decision was soon taken away from her, Peter casually remarked. “Are you’re cold?”

Before she was even able to open her mouth, he used the chance to wrap his arm around her and pull her closer. Lydia protested and said she wasn’t that cold but Peter used that just as an excuse to feel the uncovered skin on her wrists. Even though she protested she could not help that her heart beat just a little bit faster each time.

Peter knew the effect he had on her and he used it against her. If she knew how, she would try and see if she could turn this around somehow and be the one to initiate the contact. At least as long as someone else was around.

“So, did Naira got lost in the woods?” Rubèn asked with a grin.

“In the river,” Peter said and both werewolves grinned at each.

Lydia was a bit surprised that Rubèn seemed so amused about the fact that Naira obviously had taken an unwilling bath and wasn’t even back yet. “So, I guess, she didn’t do too well?”

Peter thought about it, then said: “She she knows how to track someone in the woods and she relies too much on her old methods. I think we need to try something different.”

“The blindfold?” Rubèn asked and Peter nodded.

Then he turned to her and offered an explanation. “Taken one sense out, she is forced to rely more on her other senses and thus will hopefully learn to take advantage of them.”

“There she is,” Rubèn slowly stood up, not in as much in pain as before.

Following his gaze, Lydia saw Naira walking up, her trousers were wet up to her thighs, but she didn’t look upset at all. As she approached, Lydia realised why she needed more time to come. Naira had wrung out the wet fabric and removed her socks and shoes which she held in her hand.

Rubèn closed in and whispered something to her, that she couldn’t hear. Lydia used the moment to turn to Peter. “Did you really have to push her into the water?”

“It sort of happened,” he replied and then whispered into her ear. “I think it rates pretty low on my list of offences.”

“You don’t get any arguments from me there.” Lydia rolled her eyes.

While Naira and Rubèn finished their short chat, she hung up her socks. Deciding to take a break, they all sat down on the porch and ate the sandwiches. Lydia wondered if she felt weird doing this because she sat eating in front of a burned out house where she had resurrected someone from the dead or because she hated outdoor picnics.

Then there was the fact that everyone around her was at least ten years older than she was. With werewolves who knew what age they were anyway? Naira looked like she was thirty and that was probably close to her real age, since she had only been bitten a week ago or so. Rubèn could easily be forty judging by his education and teaching experience even though he did not look much older than Naira.

The full moon in five days was the thing they talked about the most and Lydia had no intention to bring it around to the creepy zombie thing from the crypt. She mostly hung back in the conversation because what did she know about the problem? Lydia did remember that when she had knocked out Derek with the wolfsbane powder, he had his betas all locked up in that bus he had come out off. There was no indication that the two planned to do anything similar with Naira. It seemed they wanted her to be out in the woods. Which sounded pretty dangerous but she waited until Peter and Naira got up to continue the lessons.

Once Naira had put on her socks and shoes, Peter blindfolded her and then told her to follow his voice. They went further away from the house but were still in sight. Rubèn looked at them curiously and Lydia watched as well. At first they were mostly talking, which Lydia assumed was Peter giving her directions and then answering her questions. They took it slow, he moved and attacked but without actually hitting her. Naira did sweep a few punches away from her but it took time.

“On Scott’s first full moon, Stiles said he had to chain Scott to his radiator,” she began addressing Rubèn.

He turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. “That doesn’t really help learning to achieve control. I know some believe that new werewolves should be chained up until they get that kind of control but that can take a couple of full moons.”

Lydia was not too happy with the revelations. It seemed to her the longer method was a lot safer. “Aren’t you worried she might harm someone?”

“Not really,” Rubèn said, shaking his head. “I’m going to be there, in the unlikely event that someone does show up in the middle of nowhere, I’m able to intervene if she is going to attack.” His speech became more spirited. “It’s a false conception that we’re looking for a human being to tear to pieces on a full moon. It’s just a state where our instincts are at their the strongest.”

“So, if someone’s instincts are generally opposed to killing,” Lydia began, when Rubèn finished the thought for her. “It’s less likely they are going to kill someone - but if a person has issues, like being bullied or discriminated, then feelings of revenge can lead to some drastic results. Because that person suddenly has the power, the urge to fight back. Think about it: we’re such a charming society with a strict hacking order and it never bodes well when someone from the bottom finds themselves suddenly on top of it.” Rubèn took a deep breath. “But Naira is well adjusted, so I don’t have any worries.”

Lydia could think of a few troubled werewolves, that probably were better locked up during a full moon. Looking over to Naira and Peter, Lydia wondered if Rubèn was right about his assessment of Naira. Under her blindfold she seemed very frustrated. She was clearly not as good at blocking Peter’s attacks as she liked to be. He was very unrelenting and even though he assured her she was getting better, Naira clearly wasn’t happy with her progress.

Suddenly, Peter stepped back and Naira pulled off her blindfold. They looked around and then even Lydia heard the car approaching. Naira went over to the Jeep and went for the trunk.

“I don’t think, you’ll need that,” Peter said and Lydia could only speculate that Naira had reached for her gun.

Rubèn sounded cautious and worried. “You recognise the car?”

“I can see it, it’s not the hunters.”

Peter proved to be right, when the car approached Lydia recognised Derek’s Jeep. It was indeed Derek who emerged from the vehicle once it had stopped a good three feet from their Jeep.

“It’s my nephew,” Peter said and then when Cora got out, he added with smile: “And my niece.”

Rubèn stood up and walked over to where Peter and Naira stood. Lydia wondered what Peter had told them about Derek and Cora. They didn’t look particularly happy to see them.

“You left me no choice but to come back,” Derek began as if he really wasn’t looking forward to this confrontation. Then again, Lydia wasn’t able to recall him ever being enthusiastic about anything. She could see him check out the two betas, probably wondering who they were.

“So you came to ask for a place in my new pack?” Peter was enjoying the new situation.

Lydia saw the look on Derek’s face and realised that he had no idea what really was going on. His last information was probably still that they suspected Peter was involved in the killings and that they needed help covering the area for those useless patrols they had been doing. Derek turned to look at Cora, who just shrugged and looked as if she was saying: ‘Hey, don’t ask me.’

“Your pack?” Derek eyed Naira and when his gaze went over to Rubèn, he noticed Lydia. “What is she doing here?”

“I’m just looking out for her,” Peter looked back at her and Lydia saw this big smile on his face.

“Looking out for her? Is that what you call it?” Derek said snarling and shook his head. “She’s young enough to be your daughter.”

Peter laughed and replied: “Unlike you, I was never that reckless in my late teens.”

Annoyed that the conversation drifted to her but she was still treated as if she wasn’t there, Lydia rose and walked over. It seemed like the situation was about to escalate, but as Derek was not sure what to make of it, there was probably still time to avoid that. Cora seemed to feel similar about it, Lydia could not help but think that nearly dying had made her a lot more reasonable.

“You said ‘your pack’ does that mean you’re an alpha again?” Cora popped in the big question.

Her tone was very neutral and Lydia wasn’t sure if Cora was afraid of an yes or hoping for one, but she saw the youngest Hale looking at her as if to find out if she was okay. Which was a far cry away from threatening to tear her apart for dating someone that Derek did not approve of.

“Didn’t Scott tell you?” Peter replied, “That’s right, he only found out recently. Don’t look so disappointed, Derek.”

Derek appeared to be more than just disappointed, he looked resentful. While he had given up his Alpha powers gladly to save Cora and seemed okay with being a beta, he was obviously not okay with Peter getting his powers back.

“So you get your powers back and immediately start to murder people again?”

Naira sighed annoyed and Rubèn rolled his eyes, while Peter just smiled which only seemed to anger Derek further.

“It’s not him,” Lydia said and was a bit shocked about how aggravated her voice sounded. She also couldn’t believe that the first words coming out of her mouth were in defense of Peter. It was probably this mindless jumping to conclusions and the talking over her that did it.

“Forgive me, if I don’t trust your judgement on this,” Derek replied deprecatingly.

“Maybe you should,” Naira suddenly said. “Because thanks to her, we now know what one of the killers actually is.”

Lydia couldn’t help but like that Naira for pointing this out.Peter looked quite pleased with his beta getting in Derek’s face. Lydia just hoped that Derek was not going to start a fight because from what she had seen and heard, she was convinced that Naira would kick his ass.

“What? Not who?” Cora asked puzzled.

“While Scott and the others have narrowmindedly made me out as the culprit, they overlooked that whatever does the killings is undead, that goes for both killers,” Peter explained.

“Two undead killers?” Derek said sceptical, “What do we have a ghoul and a vampire going around Beacon Hills?”

“Who knows?” Peter said all serious. “What we do know that there is a Greater Zombie Master responsible for the animal killings.”

“A greater what?” Derek and Cora almost asked it simultaneously and ready to shrug it off as nonsense.

There was no denying that it sounded ridiculous, even if you were accustomed to werewolves roaming around. Lydia knew better than anyone how serious this was and when Derek told Peter that he had come up with more convincing lies, she lost it a bit. Pulling up her sleeves she showed her two mangled wrists. The twisted one had a huge blue bruised area while the other one was covered in all sorts of colours.

“It’s not made up,” Lydia told him. “This thing is real and it’s powerful enough to hurt me through my dreams, so who cares if it’s got this ridiculous long denominator and not a short cutesy gaelic term? Over a dozen people have been murdered and most of them by that thing. All you and Stiles and Scott and the others are doing is insisting that Peter is behind it. When he’s the only one actually doing anything about it. Nevermind the fact that he has an alibi for last night’s killing.”

Derek stared at her with a mixture of kicked puppy face and a dismissive attitude, but he saw Naira nod at her mentioning the alibi. Lydia had noticed how after seeing the bruises Derek had shot Peter a venomous look. That was exactly the point, they always suspected him of doing the worst, ignoring that just because Peter was capable of that, it did not mean he was automatically behind everything bad.

“I should believe, you care about people dying?” Derek shook his head.

“If people are getting torn apart by animals, that’s bad for all of us, Dere,k” Rubèn added sounding a bit like he was talking down to a particular disruptive student.

“Do I know you?” Derek asked hostile.

“You might remember Rubèn of the Salceda Clan?” Peter said with a shrug.

The clan name clearly ran a bell, Lydia wondered if he had heard about what happened or if Derek knew the name from prior contact with them.

“I’ve heard the clan was wiped out”, Cora suddenly replied.

“Yes,” Rubèn replied bitterly and Lydia noticed Naira taking his hand. He took a deep breath and looked at Cora. “Kate Argent did it - killed everyone there.”

For a moment nobody said anything. Mentioning Kate, Derek immediately stared to the ground and when he looked up there was this guilt stricken expression on his face.

“I still don’t trust you,” Derek eventually said and then directed at all of them: “If I were you, I wouldn’t either. He murdered his own niece, if you’re in trouble he’ll just let you die.”

“Oh, we know what he did,” Naira replied clearly not impressed. “We also know what you did.”

“We’re a pack now,” Rubèn said very assured. “We’ll look after each other just fine.”

“You’re not crazy enough enough to trust him, as well?”

The fact that Derek suddenly asked for her opinion just told Lydia that he was desperate for one person to agree with him about Peter not being trustworthy.

“Only in some areas,” Lydia found herself replying, “like helping me with my dreams.”

“Might I remind you, that he nearly killed you,” Derek seemed one step short of grabbing her by the shoulders to shake her.

Lydia wasn’t impressed or intimidated by his outburst. “And once you tried to have me killed.”

“She’s got a point there,” Peter happily pointed out, proving once more how good he was at spinning everything on it’s head to make himself look good or at least not as worse. “Besides, I didn’t intend to kill her. I just tried to convince Stiles to help me to save you. Remember, the Argents had captured you. Which also proves that sometimes I do lift a finger or two to help. Don’t think that because I’m not willing to go on a suicide mission for two strays, I wouldn’t look out for my own pack or family.”

Those last words were more directed at Cora and Lydia saw how Derek’s eyes narrowed when he noticed. He even stepped a bit to the side to disrupt the line of sight between his sister and Peter.

“Like you looked out for Laura?” Derek said.

Lydia felt a bit as if he was beating a dead horse. After all previously Derek had no problems asking Peter for advice. Now, because of something Scott had said, Derek was riled up again. It also made her wonder how Peter had sold Laura’s murder to Rubèn and Naira as neither of them were bothered by it.

“I’m getting tired of you bringing that up,” Peter replied with his tone sounding a bit annoyed. “It’s not like you didn’t already kill me for it or the fact it wouldn’t have happened if you had listened to me. I’ve warned you - I told you that bitch was bad news but you did not listen.”

Derek’s lip quivered and he looked ready to punch Peter or sink into a hole in the ground. That line clearly got to him.

“What is he talking about?” Cora asked her brother who swallowed hard but was otherwise frozen in that almost helpless stare at his own feet. Leaving Laura to once more ask the question, this time looking at Peter. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Kate Argent,” he almost spat out the name. “I guess Derek never mentioned that he lead her here, told her about the gathering. I assume in between pillow talk.”

“What?” Cora turned pale but when she looked at Derek, it was so obvious that Peter had not made that up. Lydia thought it explained a lot of things about Derek, but that was the only affect the revelation had on her. Unlike Cora who grabbed her brother’s jacket and made him face her. “Tell me that’s not true.”

There was no reply from him, Derek just stared down at his boots. “I’m ..”, he began after a few moments but did not manage to finish it.

“You’re what? Sorry?” Cora shouted, being beyond horrified. “You slept with that psycho? Oh my god, is that what gets you off? No wonder you were so into Miss Blake.”

“In all fairness, I think he just falls easily for a pretty face,” Peter interjected himself into her tirade and Lydia wondered what he was playing at. He certainly held Cora’s attention now, while Derek wasn’t saying anything, he was completely frozen on the spot and kept staring at the ground. Lydia felt a bit sorry for him. Peter was certainly right about him falling for their looks, she knew what it was like when everyone looked at your dating record and thought you were into sociopathic killer just because you happened to have sex with four of them.

“We all did things we’re not proud of, all I’m saying is, we should probably focus on the current problems. Fact is: if we don’t stop these killings soon, we will have other hunters coming here. Then there is the FBI and the ongoing threat of the Nemeton,” Peter explained.

Cora was still riled up but it did seem to calm her down a bit. “What do you plan on doing?”

“I’ll know more after talking with my Emissary this evening, but the most important thing is keeping Lydia save,” Peter said and ended with a dramatic sigh. “Unfortunately, the twins don’t really lived up to the task and so far the others have been pretty uncooperative.”

“I’m not going to join your pack,” Derek looked up again. “If you’re really so concerned about her, I’m sure she’s much safer with us, given that we’re three alphas and four betas, which clearly beats your numbers.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, it was so typical that neither of them ever bothered to ask her what she wanted. At least she didn’t need to fear that Peter was going to hand her over, for once she was everything but unhappy about that. The truth was, there might be more potential protectors if she went with them, but she doubted that she would be as safe with them: at least safe from the Greater Zombie Master, since she knew that being with Peter was far from safe to begin with.

“I’m afraid, we come as a package deal,” Peter replied and to demonstrate that he wrapped his arm around her.

Derek tightened his jaw, his fingers were curled into a fist. He was so incredibly tense that it seemed like had just waited for a chance to lash out. With her so close to him, that chance was gone.

“Don’t you think her parents will notice that she’s gone?” Cora wondered.

Lydia noticed that she had stepped a bit away from Derek. Whenever Cora looked at her brother there was this hurt in her eyes, as if she still could not believe that he had lead Kate to their home or maybe that he hadn’t told her. It was always hard to swallow if you heard important revelations from someone you didn’t trust and thus discovering that those whom you had trusted kept something from you.

“My parents are out of town and with what’s going on, I want it to stay this way,” Lydia said hoping that they would understand. “Look like I’m not that thrilled about this either, but if I want to figure this out, then Peter can help me better than anyone.”

It didn’t sound very convincing but Lydia figured better than telling the truth: that this Zombie creature scared her and whatever else Peter had done she wanted him close by. As long as that thing was out there, she wanted to have the option of sleeping next to him, so the Greater Zombie Master couldn’t come after her in her sleep.

Derek didn’t see it that way, he just shook his head and gave her a look as if she was crazy. Which was oddly familiar and Lydia realised that she really didn’t care what Derek thought. Especially since his bright ideas involved antagonising people he might better befriend, not listening to advice when it would prevent problems and also attempting to kill her after drawing the wrong conclusions about a very fallible test. Then there was the matter that after he was up to his neck in trouble, he tended to listen to Peter anyway.

If the others wanted to wait until it got even worse before they considered that for once Peter was not the worst problem, then Lydia had no choice to be on her own. Which was ironic, because if they were more reasonable, then maybe right now, she wouldn’t be.

“So you honestly want to stay here?” Cora asked her.

Lydia considered that a great improvement, but somehow couldn’t help to reply with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Yeah, sure I love hanging out in the woods.”

Cora did not look like she was out for an argument. “That’s not what I meant.”

“She’s obviously safer with us,” Naira spoke up again, “besides since the killings started over two weeks ago, your pal Scott and his buddies haven’t figured out anything. Peter has already figured out the nature of one of the killers after less than a week.”

Derek shot Naira an angry glare which she clearly did not care about. After a moment he turned to Peter. “Fine, if you got everything figured out.”

With those words Derek turned around and walked to his Jeep. Cora stared after him as if she could not believe that he would just go. There was certainly more she wanted to hear but despite the recent revelations she was drawn to follow him. After two steps she turned around. “Is there anything we can do?”

“You could try and convince the others to at least listen,” Peter answered her as he spoke he looked at her, “Lydia and I will have chat with my Emissary,” he looked back at his niece. “After that I might even have a strategy, you see this Zombie Master in it’s current form is unstoppable. Lydia here is the key to changing that.”

“So you will be at the animal clinic later?” Cora asked with a hopeful tone.

Peter laughed. “Oh no, Deaton isn’t my emissary, I prefer a druid that actually gives out good advice on a regular basis. But I’m sure she’ll brief him at some point.”

Cora took in that news, but was distracted by Derek opening the door and slamming it shut loudly after he got in. “You never really liked Deaton,” she said thoughtfully before adding a question. “How did you become an alpha?”

“Deucalion,” Peter stated with some pride.

While Lydia cringed inside hearing the name, Cora smiled widely. “You killed him?”

“Not exactly, I didn’t want to antagonize Derek and Scott further, so I just took his powers,” Peter shrugged. His words were carefully selected. Cora frowned when he reminded her that they had let Deucalion walk away and Derek honking didn’t help. Lydia was sure it was all about driving a wedge between them. His next words practically confirmed Lydia’s suspicions that Peter wanted to win Cora for his pack. “But it’s a long story, maybe we can talk about it at some point, when we got more time.”

There was another honk and Cora nodded. “Yes, maybe.”

With a frustrated sigh, she turned and hurried to the waiting Jeep.


	23. Another Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Lydia finds out a little bit more about Peter and his witch connection and Yoon stops by to tell them more about their adversary and give some advice.
> 
>  
> 
> _“Male Witches don’t hold any positions of power, they are basically what omegas are to werewolves," Peter continued. “They either suck up to someone or they are on their own. Believe me, when it comes to punishment and revenge, witches can be a very nasty group of people.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [SecretsofNell](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4880525/) for beta-reading this for me.
> 
> And sorry for taking so long, got so many problems with internet and my old monitor (but the new one rocks) and I'm also participating in [mating_games](http://mating-games.livejournal.com/) for another four weeks :D

Naira and Rubèn dropped them off at the apartment. Instead of through the garage they entered through the front door. The building looked so normal and yet seeing Peter do something as normal as check his mail box was weirding her out a bit. It did not help that it was already dark and she did feel uncomfortable just thinking about her going after that zombie thing again.

When the elevator came down, a couple in their twenties was stepping out, slightly drunk. They looked at them snickered and went towards the main door. “If I really can’t get drunk, I consider that a blessing,” Lydia said irritated.

There was something about people looking at her and laughing that always gave her pause. Even though it did not make sense as she was just doing fine. On their way to the apartment they heard loud music from another apartment on the floor. It did seem that not everyone was worried about the curfew. Except maybe those two they had just met.

While she would prefer to be at home, Lydia felt glad as she stepped in the apartment. Immediately, she walked over to the couch and removed her boots. Peter had taken off his jacket first, stood there and smiled at her.

“What?” Lydia asked.

“Just glad you’re feeling at home,” he said and slipped out of his shoes, then walked over to her boots and put both away in a shoe cabinet.

Instead of giving him the satisfaction of being upset about that remark she owned it and slipped out of her jacket, holding it out to him in silent demand for him to hang it up. As Peter complied with that, she stretched her leg over the seating area and leaned onto one of the pillows. That way she occupied the entire couch, blocking the spot that Peter had sat yesterday along with any other possible area.

“It’s a really comfortable couch,” she finally said.

“Yeah, Ines choose that one well,” Peter leaned against the backrest and pulled out his cell phone.

“Is that the witch, who owns the apartment here?” Lydia wondered suddenly curious about it again.

Peter nodded as he sent off a text. “Yes, Ines refused to give it up - even after they were no longer allowed to come here. I was looking for a safe place to stay and this was perfect”

“And this Ines is a witch - as in can cast spells and make potions,” Lydia barely stopped herself from asking if Ines flew around on a broomstick.

“At one point there were not only druids and werewolfs in Beacon Hills but also a family of witches. I grew up to become friends with her older sister Jenna, or rather at that time, she was called Samuel and a boy. I was hanging out more with Sam than with my sister’s oldest children or anyone else who’s last name was Hale - at least until Derek became older:”

His cell interrupted him with a beep, Peter checked the message and said. “Yoon wonders if she should bring take out over? Are you in the mood for something Italian? That’s what she’s in the mood for.”

“Fine, lasagna sounds good,” Lydia replied still surprised about what she just heard.

While she was prepared for Peter to put a spin on some of the things he told her, she was still surprised to hear that his best friend while growing up turned out to be a transgender. She wondered what to make about him basically stating that they were much closer than he had been with his family and also probably the pack, which seemed referred to the same group of people.

Lydia waited until Peter was finished texting Yoon, before she asked. “So Ines and S- Jenna - are they still alive?”

“Well, obviously I killed them both,” he said somewhat glib.

His amusement and the way he looked down to her, told her that he was kidding. A horrible subject to joke about given that he had put a few people underground.

“I just wondered - why wouldn’t they live here?” Lydia said.

“Because, they are forbidden to return here - the high council of witches - yes that is a real thing,” Peter said and walked over to the dinner table, “they made Beacon Hills off-limit for witches.”

“They must think you’re really bad influence.”

It was a lot to take in, but she remembered Peter mentioning that his sister and the mother of the other witch, Jenna, had been against them seeing each other.

“Oh, I certainly am,” Peter admitted proudly, “but that’s not the real reason for what happened. You see, male witches are maybe ten percent of all the witches - they aren’t regarded highly.”

Peter turned back to her, pacing in an out of her field of vision. Until she decided to lie on her stomach. It was clearly a topic that upset him a lot.

“Male Witches don’t hold any positions of power, they are basically what omegas are to werewolves, “Peter continued. “They either suck up to someone or they are on their own. Believe me, when it comes to punishment and revenge, witches can be a very nasty group of people.”

There was so much aggression when he spoke about them, that it was obvious that something really bad had happened. Before her assumptions ran away from her again, Lydia decided to ask. “They did something to your friend, didn’t they?”

“Separating us was the least of it. Her mother and her friends weren’t accepting that Sam wasn’t a boy, they saw it as a ruse to gain respect and access to the family’s arcana,” he stopped and looked at her. “You see, her older sister was not interested in taking up the mantle of clan leader.”

“And they wouldn’t accept Jenna because she was not a woman in their eyes?” Lydia said suspecting that with all societies that preferred one gender over the other, the dominant one would seek to keep the weaker one in their places at all cost. If society in general had a problem with people who sought to become their true gender, why should witches be any different?

Peter nodded. “Men aren’t allowed to become clan leaders, it is not always the oldest daughter but it has to be women.” Then he walked around once more, avoiding to look at her whenever he related the more personal details of the story he had begun telling her.

“Jenna did receive a lot of hate once she dared to be herself. At first, I wasn’t too supportive either but,” he took an agitated breath, “it did make sense. It didn’t matter to me in the end. I liked her for being smart, clever and magical. At first I did not even knew that my mother was a witch, we just were two supernatural teens stuck at Beacon Hills high school.”

That was something Lydia knew all too well. While she was extremely curious to found out what happened to Jenna, she did listen a bit to what happened when Jenna came out. The way Peter portrayed himself as the super supportive best friend was certainly not something she was ready to believe. In his tale he came around very fast and while she might do him injustice there, she did not believe that part.

But the fact that she lost most of her other friends and was shunned by classmates and most of her family rang true. It was not much better nowadays and she did understood that it might be hard to accept. The way Peter spoke about her, telling her in detail how she secretly began transitioning via hormones with the support of Ines, made Lydia believe that in the end, he had accepted her as whom she was.

During his narration, she became surer that part of the reason he was avoiding to look at her most of the time was not to hide him spinning a more favourable version: he was trying to hide how this story affected him. Either that or Peter was the most brilliant actor ever to walk over California’s soil.

In all fairness, it was not just himself who was described as being close to perfect: the way Peter described Jenna, she had to be the smartest and funniest person he ever met - himself of course not included. She had a dark sense of humour where others played cruel pranks they enjoyed playing a game where they insulted others without them noticing. Which seemed oddly benign and malicious at the same time.

It helped of course that Peter was pretty much the best player in the school’s basketball team and it did create a buffer for Jenna whom nobody dared to cross openly after a while. Lydia thought it wiser not ask what he had done to ensure that. It surprised her a bit when Peter almost out of the blue mentioned a male witch who did take Jenna to the prom. For a moment she expected a Carrie like scenario where the other witch was out to humiliate Jenna but it turned out that the evening went great. They double dated and had a great evening, which made her ultimately think about her own prom and who might take her. Those thoughts did not last long, when she felt that Peter was about ready to tell her what happened to his witch friend.

“Then somehow it came out that my mother was a rather infamous witch, who had been sentenced to something called the eternal death,” he shrugged and Lydia had a hard time telling how Peter felt about what happened to his mother. It seemed he barely knew her. While she watched him, he still pacing, continued. “Either way, in the mind of a witch the sins of the mother are handed down to the children and unless you got a couple of other female witches speaking out for you - you were forbidden to interact with other witches.”

“Did you even know her?” Lydia asked not sure if it was a good idea to bring up his mother. There was also the fact that she seemed to remember that Peter had initially made it seem that witches were just in general opposed to everything that was supernatural for being pretentious snobs.

Peter shook his head, “I never cared to find out. She dropped me off just days after I was born. I really did not care. Never knew she was a witch until that day either. Wasn’t told much either, but I listened to Deaton talking with my sister about this. Learned quite a few things that way.”

It seemed that Stiles had been right about Peter knowing so much because he crept around a lot. Lydia had of course experienced it inside her head and then there was that moment when he had shown up when they had to deal with Jackson. Not to forget about the many instances when he had just turned up like a bad penny in her life again and again.

“I imagine,” Lydia said a bit disappointed that Jenna’s fate was still not explained even though she was gaining more insight in what happened. “So did you two break the rules?”

Which was almost a silly question given that Peter clearly liked to make his own rules.

“Numerous times,” he admitted with an almost melancholical smile. “We weren’t caught by the witches though, Laura did eventually put an end to us snooping around, by ratting me out to my sister.”

Lydia was on two minds about this, it seemed like it was something made up to excuse what he had done by making Laura out to be this mean snitch. Yet, it could be true and would be awful if it had led to his friend getting into trouble.

“Is that supposed to make it okay?” she decided to say.

Peter shook his head. “Actually, Laura probably saved me a lot of trouble. You see Jenna was growing more confident and decided to read in the Grimoire more and more often. Had I been caught with her, I’d probably suffered the same fate as she did - maybe even worse.”

That reply was not something Lydia had expected, but she could tell that Peter felt no gratitude towards his niece. There was clearly some animosity but that was something Lydia would find out another day, the question that burned on her mind was: “What did the witches do to her?”

“Jenna was of course trialled as a male witch, they took her eyesight and her speech. So she could never look at a grimoire again or tell anyone about what she had seen,” Peter said, closing his eyes. “They imposed heavy restrictions on her - she spends most of her time under house arrest.”

“That’s horrible,” Lydia found it incredibly petty and somewhat unbelievable. “All of this just for looking at a book?”

This whole time she had expected to hear about Jenna doing something awful and for some reason no matter how Peter would put it, Lydia figured he had to be behind it and then it was just about her doing something so harmless.

Peter was back to leaning against the backrest of the couch. With a somewhat serious expression he said: “She challenged the status quo. That was almost worse than looking at a book. Not that this wouldn’t have a harsh penalty as well. Ines told me witches have particularly malicious sense of law and order.”

Lydia had the feeling there was more to this story but it was hard to tell if Peter was just exaggerating what had happened or had left something out. She got a different impression from what he had told her on her birthday and that indicated he probably had not crafted a story but stuck mostly to the truth as he remembered it.

Then she realised something else. “This apartment, the lack of decorations, the surfaces … this apartment was initially meant for Jenna, wasn’t it?”

Peter nodded. “Ines had tried to get her sister away and back here, but they caught them leaving and made it impossible for Jenna to sneak back here.”

“That is why the apartment has this enchantment - the other witches wouldn’t find her here,” Lydia said and let out a sigh. It was heartwarming to think about what Ines tried to do for her sister and disheartening to think of Jenna sitting blind and unable to talk in the unrelenting grasp of a community of witches who shunned her. And just maybe, Peter actually torn up about it, because he could imagine from his own similar experience how awful that must be. He did attempt to hide it but Lydia was sure that he was genuine in caring about his old highschool friend.

A beep from his cell phone broke the weird mood that had come over Lydia. Peter looked at the phone and then said. “Yoon will be here in fifteen minutes,” he sighed and stepped away from the couch. “I should set the table.”

Lydia rose from her comfortable position but remained seated on the sofa. As she watched Peter, she wondered what he was playing at or if he was. Even bad guys needed to eat and thus handle the dishes before and after dinner. As much as Naira pointed out that Peter’s kitchen was badly stocked the place looked clean. Since she doubted Peter let many people in here, he probably looked after the place himself.

That was something she didn’t want to think about: the concept of Peter having a normal everyday life was an image that didn’t fit with the view she felt she needed to have to be on alert. It was just like on her birthday, Peter had a way of bringing up what happened to him and it was hard not to care. At least for her and he knew that, even though he had not exactly painted it in lively colours she had gotten the idea from his story about Jenna that he never really had it easy. No matter how often she told herself that it did not excuse any of the things he did, it just made him seem more human.

She decided to make herself another tea and suddenly they were involved in talking about groceries and what they needed to buy and what they would order. They still had not finished that discussion when the doorbell rang and Peter buzzed Yoon and opened the apartment door for her a few minutes later.

It did not surprise Lydia the least bit that Yoon was wearing a black leather outfit and apart from the bag with the take-out had a black helmet dangling in her hand. She greeted Lydia and told her how impressed she was with her progress. Then Yoon added: “The next part will be more difficult but I’m more confident that you’ll figure it out successfully as well.”

“Can’t happen fast enough,” Lydia replied with a bitter tone.

Peter managed to look as if the comment was not a slight against him and instead agreed with her. “While we shouldn’t rush you, it would be best to take our zombie fiend out before he can gather more power. Especially since he does that by killing people.”

The last sentence was clearly an afterthought. However, it was a good point. Lydia still felt at loss about the recent killing, even though she was doing her best to figure it out, she had the feeling many more would die before she was able to find the missing body parts, they needed to find

“I’m not sure about you, but I think maybe we should eat first and then talk about torn off body parts,” Yoon suggested and began unpacking the food.

Lydia could not help agree wholeheartedly with that suggestion and Peter went along with it. He obviously had no problems discussing gruesome details over dinner but he knew he gained nothing by pushing it on them. Lydia wasn’t so sure if Yoon really had a problem with it either and wondered if she had that said only to support her.

Her appetite was already pretty low and the lasagne was so huge that it almost made her give up before she even started. Since the others ate theirs, she began taking a few bites as well.

“So do you also order a lot of take out?” Lydia asked.

Yoon nodded. “That or I warm something up. I don’t know my dad used to do all the cooking - but he let me help.” She shrugged and battled with her Spaghetti Carbonara. “I feel just pretty sad cooking by myself.”

“My parents always had someone cook, unless it was salad, that was something my mom did on her own, sometimes,” Lydia shared in the vain hope to find out how the Hales handled dinner.

Peter did not take up the cue, instead he replied: “Cooking takes up too much time anyway.”

It was almost like he avoided the topic. Every time food came up, Peter seemed almost too dismissive as if he wanted to make sure that everyone knew he did not care about it. Yet on her birthday, he had shown a very refined taste.

“How are the two of you getting along?” Yoon wanted to know and added with a side glance to Peter. “I hope he’s behaving.”

“It could be a lot worse,” Lydia said thinking about how true that was in light of what Peter had already done to her.

That said, Lydia liked Yoon’s tone. It was as if she really did not care about how dangerous Peter was. That was probably a good mindset for an Emissary, as she wouldn’t be afraid to give out advice or tell Peter when she disagreed with what he was doing. Then again Yoon was just a druid and there was little she could do if Peter was not listening. He did seem to value her input, which had surprised Lydia a bit at first.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Peter said as if the whole idea of him misbehaving was completely baseless.

Yoon rolled with her eyes. “I can think about a dozen reasons.”

Lydia smirked at the comeback and entirely unoffended Peter smiled at his Emissary as well.

“As curious I am to hear all twelve of them, I believe you have found out more about our zombie friend?” he inquired since everyone had stopped eating anyway.

“Yes, I have, I already told you about how these things have the ability to alter memories and play with people’s minds. They use that to keep people trapped in an area,” Yoon said and leaned back looking at Lydia for a moment longer as before. “They can sent dreams but it concerns me that this one was able to harm Lydia in hers, that is not something they normally do. Nor do they prey on such large towns.”

Peter seemed thoughtful, then replied somewhat concerned. “It could be numerous things - the Nemeton might grant it more power already. It could just work on banshees.”

“Or whoever wrote about them just did not experience this,” Lydia added with a renewed feeling of dread. Unwillingly she found herself looking at Peter and thinking that she was glad that he could protect her from that thing. Taking a deep breath she added: “What else can this thing do?”

Yoon sighed. “What can’t it do? - It can teleport itself, make itself invisible, take other shapes and create zombies out of humans and animals. Some accounts even say it can re-animate individual body parts and other claim it can briefly stop time.”

“These powers, clearly have limits or else he would’ve grabbed Lydia already instead of bothering with her dreams,” Peter pointed out and Lydia felt very grateful he did because that thing sounded terrifying.

“It could be that he was afraid to face her not knowing exactly what she was, maybe it costs him too much energy or he could have been toying with her,” Yoon sounded reluctant as she mentioned the latter part and hesitated before she added. “It is probably a good thing, that you’ve brought her here. Outside the apartment, I advise for Lydia not to be alone. It can’t be destroyed without its missing limbs but it can be temporarily put out of commission by grave wounds.”

Peter shook his head softly and smiled at her before saying firmly. “Don’t worry, I won’t let her out of my sight.”

On the one hand Lydia felt reassured and glad to hear it as she believed he was meaning every word he said. Peter was not fooling around, he did not made idle promises. On the other hand it seemed like in every crisis it was he who got exactly what he wanted. Leaving her with the ultimate question what she wanted. Surprisingly whenever she thought about that, it was not Aiden or Jackson she kept thinking about. It was not Peter either but a lot of the things she wanted did come back to him, she wanted to learn about her powers and wanted to stop these killings. He made her feel in ways she rather not feel around him or at all: he could terrify and arouse her. It even went as far as her thinking about him when she was having sex with Aiden. It was maybe time for her to stop worrying about what Peter was getting out of it and come to terms with what she wanted. That way she could at least try and make some of that happen.

After giving Peter a stern look, Yoon went on explaining: “One thing though will work in our favour: it will have hidden his head and hands in one safe location and when we get those, the zombie master will focus on getting them back.”

“Overpowering it will be difficult enough,” Peter said thoughtfully leaning back in his chair. “What about the minions?”

Yoon let out a heavy breath. “Those are indeed the problem. While other beings can also create a Tupilaq, the ones you will encounter are very hard to put down.”

“A Tupilaq?” Lydia interrupted, it was obvious that Peter knew what Yoon was referring to but she wanted to know as well.

“That would be the undead Frankenstein animals that are doing the killings for the zombie master,” Peter told her.

Yoon nodded and added: “When they said the bite marks were unidentifiable and Peter told me it was something undead I suspected right away that it was a Tupilaq or two. However, ordinary these can be blow or cut apart and that would be it.”

“Have you found out how to stop them?” Peter asked as if this was not terribly bad news but just another little detail.

With a smile, Yoon pulled out a few items out of her bag: there were several roles of bare wire and plastic bags as large as Lydia’s hand that were filled with some white crystals.

Lydia looked at it with suspicion and then asked: “Is that salt?”

“Yes, it is,” Yoon laughed. “i know it does not look like much but the only way to put a true tupilaq down is to put salt into his mouth and wire it shut. So I took the liberty of getting these,” she grabbed a roll of wire and unrolled some of it, then she spoke as she demonstrated: “As you see, here’s a sharp little tool that makes it easy to snap it off. So one roll should last for more than one. I suggest everyone keeps three rolls and several packs of salt.”

“I assume they should be open somehow,” Peter picked one up.

“Of course,” Yoon agreed. “Salt will not work immediately, there needs to be a fair amount. The Tupilaq will try to spit it out, this is more than enough content to drop it. The zombies will be much easier.”

Peter and Yoon seemed pretty unconcerned, that last bit just made Lydia frown and feel more worried. The werewolves would be able to defend themselves and again she was left to rely on them. Whether it was the Twins, Scott and his ragtag pack or Peter and his new one this was not a threat she was able to handle on her own. Even Allison would not be able to fend those things off by herself. While Lydia had no problems accepting help, there was something about depending on either of those three groups that felt wrong to her. She had the feeling that was because she was not really that close to either one.

Aiden was wonderful distraction and when it came to sex she did feel safe with him, because he never pressured her and always gave her the feeling he’d stop if she want him to. That was it, she did care that deeply for him. Scott might help her but only because he liked playing the hero. He did not really care for her. With Allison and Stiles - who did care - Lydia was currently at odds. At least with Peter she had no problems using him, but she wondered what would happen if it became so dangerous that his life was on the line. Lydia would bet he would save his own ass first and foremost.

Hearing that the zombies would stop if they were sufficiently damaged was not lifting up her mood in the slightest. Lydia knew she probably should learn to fire a gun but the idea of running around putting headshots into walking rotting corpses was just as abhorrent to her as the dead walking around. She was the girl who did the research and since Yoon had done that, it left just one task for her and that was the key to the whole mission to stop the Zombie Master.

“So how do I find the head and the hands?” Lydia said sighing. This was not something she had ever wanted to say. Even though she should have gotten used by now to the fact that finding dead bodies and parts of them was her new special gift.

“It will be a difficult progress,” Yoon said uneasy and slowly. “You’ll require a lot of training.”

That didn’t sound too bad but there was something about the look on Yoon’s face that concerned Lydia a great deal, then Peter cleared his throat.

“You will need to learn how to differentiate what in a dream comes from you and what someone else plants inside it,” Peter leaned forward putting his arms on the table. “Yoon probably fears that it might be triggering for you - since I’m the only one who can train you.”

“Once you’ve mastered that, you’ll have to learn to invade his dreams and do the same thing,” Yoon added.

The thought of Peter spooking around in her dreams once more was indeed not very pleasant. Lydia felt her mouth dry and so she picked up her glass and drank the rest of the water. All the while telling herself, that it would not be that bad. Now she was aware what was going on and as an extra benefit she would learn something that spared her the same thing for the future.

“When do we start?” she said, trying to hide the unease in her voice.

“Not tonight,” Peter replied and stood up. “You need to rest.”

Lydia did not like the thought of wasting time or Peter dictating the terms. “People could die while I take an completely unnecessary outtime.”

“With everything that happened, you really should take the time, if you push yourself too hard, you’ll just burn out and will need even longer to be in shape,” Yoon explained calmly, but Lydia pouted emboldened by her success and willing to get this over as soon as possible. “It is a very difficult process to master - just think how long it took Peter who had nothing else to do but try and communicate with you to get a halfway clear message through.”

Lydia remembered all too well, at first she had no idea why she had taken off into the woods but in hindsight she realised that it was Peter who had grabbed her out of the murky depth of the bathtub. What she hadn’t realised was that he might not have done that on purpose.

“There is something else,” Yoon looked at Peter. “You need to smooth things over with the others. You need more than two other pack members to beat the Zombie master.”

“Preferably another alpha or two …” Peter moved his chair under the table.

Rolling her eyes, Lydia looked up at him. “I think hell will freeze over before the Twins agree to help in a joined effort with you.”

“In that case, maybe a larger pack would work,” he said and looked with a smirk at Yoon who was everything but amused.

“Or another pack,” Yoon sharply said and reminded Lydia a bit of strict teacher. “There is no time to draw in the others or find new candidates and train them. You need to get Scott and the others on board.”

“I’ve already offered my help and suggested that we work together,” he replied and shrugged before leaning against the kitchen counter.

“You should be glad the others hadn’t had the chance to go after you. Because after what you did, they see you as an enemy and I can’t blame them. But I already told you what I thought about it,” Yoon looked at Lydia.

Her heart had started to beat a bit faster when she heard Peter getting lectured by his emissary. The reminder of what had happened on her birthday was making her feel so conflicted, but ultimately sad for all the wrong reasons. The thought that Yoon had given Peter a piece of her mind about it, was somewhat gratifying. While Yoon turned her gaze away towards Peter moments later, Lydia was glad that there was one person who knew what happened who did not treat her as victim and still was neither excusing Peter’s behaviour nor refusing to work together with both of them.

“What do you want me to do?” Peter said it as if there was nothing to be done about it.

“You should meet with Scott and the others,” Yoon began but was interrupted by Peter.

“That would accomplish nothing, I’ve already tried that and they didn’t listen, you can ask Lydia.”

While she did not want to be drawn into this on Peter’s side, she nodded. “I tried to convince them with rational arguments, they don’t want to listen.”

“Then make them, demonstrate them that you don’t need to be their enemy,” Yoon shook her head. “It’s not just about the Zombie Master, you need to show everyone that you don’t intend to use your powers against them. Otherwise I can guarantee that you’ll end up six-feet under and I assure you, I won’t let you terrorize Lydia again.”

For a moment Lydia saw Peter move but then he just crossed his arms in front of him and with a dangerous tone, he asked: “How would I get them to see that they need my help to stop this threat?”

“By showing your willingness to give up Lydia,” Yoon said and glanced over to her, “that is if that is what she wants.”

This time Peter moved, he was so incredibly fast that Lydia jumped up startled when he suddenly was leaning over the table almost snarling at Yoon who sat there not flinching one bit. “She’s not safe with them,” his voice had this growling undertone as he spoke.

Calmly staring back at the red eyes, Yoon replied: “I know, but that should be her decision. You can’t expect the others to work with you when you kidnap their friends.”

“How’s he supposed to help me train to find the head?” Lydia asked and Peter turned to her and then back at Yoon as if he wanted to say that even she could spot the error in Yoon’s plan.

“If the others are not willing to let you work together with Peter, then more people will die. But the thing is, if you find the head and the others won’t work with Peter, then you went looking for it in vain,” Yoon explained.

“I don’t really have a choice,” Lydia shrugged somewhat lost, “what difference does it make?”

“You always have a choice,” Yoon said firmly. “You can leave, you can look the other way, you can hope that we find the head by other means, it speaks for you that you don’t see that as an option - but if you intend to work on this with Peter to stop more people from dying, then your friends needs to hear that - all of it.”

That was not exactly what Lydia wanted to hear, her breath became a little faster but she knew that Yoon was right. She had always hidden parts of her dealing with Peter, because she was afraid her friends would hate her even more. That was probably because she did not want to admit to herself that she was glad that Peter had not left her a choice. But Yoon was right, she needed to stand by what she wanted to do, no matter how bizarre that might seem to her friends or herself.

“But what if the others won’t accept my decision?” Lydia asked.

Despite looking at Yoon, Lydia saw Peter’s astonished look when he realised what this meant. His aggressive demeanour subsided.

“That’s why you should meet at a public place - if they really are that uncooperative, then they have a difficult time making you go with them,” Yoon replied and put her elbows on the table and then rested her chin on her folded hands. “Honestly, I think if you really convince them that this is your decision then you won’t have a problem.”

Lydia sighed, so it was not just up to her to find the missing body parts, whether Peter, Scott and the others would work together also rested on her shoulders. All Lydia wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep feeling Peter’s warmth around her. She let out an embarrassed laugh even though the other two could not possibly guess her thoughts.

“We’ll see,” Peter said doubtfully. “When do you suggest we arrange the meeting?”

Yoon leaned back. “I’ll hope I can find Alan tomorrow, tried to call him today and Marin, too - neither would reply.”

“So you intend to get Deaton to see things your way, hoping he makes Scott see the light,” Peter smiled smugly. “I guess I shouldn’t doubt your plans.”

“Scott seems to listen to Alan, even though he doesn’t like you, I think he’s rational enough to realise that we need to work together on this,” Yoon remarked. “I think, I’ll ask him to set up a meeting with Scott, Stiles and Isaac on Monday - at the Beacon Hills mall?”

“Yes, to Scott and Stiles,” Peter replied thoughtfully. “But I rather have Derek there - and Cora can come as well.”

“They’re back?” Yoon was surprised. “Hmm, that should make things easier, Derek has been cooperating with you when necessary, from what you told me.”

“Derek might not like me, but he knows my advice is sound,” Peter said as if it was just one random unimportant fact and shrugged it off. “I admit our relationship is a bit murky - but I think we’re clear on the important issues.”

Which oddly enough reminded Lydia of something else she had meant to ask about.

“Yoon,” Lydia addressed the other woman, “You said if the crystal became too dark, it could shatter and wouldn’t protect me anymore.”

“Has it become dark already?” Yoon asked and when she saw Lydia nodding she added. “You better show me.”

Lydia stood up and went to bedroom, where the murky crystal still lay on the nightstand. As she walked back, she heard the last pieces of an argument.

“... but if she asked nicely, I wouldn’t say No,” Peter told Yoon and smiled at her in a way that told Lydia he had referred to her.

“You’re unbelievable,” Yoon said and added a word that Lydia did not quite understand.

As she could imagine what Peter had been referring to she rather quickly gave Yoon the crystal. “It got a bit dark already.”

“A bit?” Yoon did look unhappy. “This Zombie master is indeed quite powerful. But I see if I can cleanse it a bit. Might take a day or two, I admit I have never done it before.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Peter said, “in the meantime I’ll just have to keep Lydia safe.”

Lydia did not protest, she was not looking particularly happy but she had come to terms with the arrangement. In her mind she already wondered how she was going to explain that to the others without letting on too much. Nothing really seemed a good way to reveal that she wanted to stay with Peter, at least for the time being, because she only got to sleep restful and undisturbed by nightmares if he was sleeping next to her. After all them doing this training thing could probably be done with him being anywhere. She could not even lie and pretend that she found this arrangement horrible given that the werewolves were so good at figuring out when someone lied.

Yoon reminded Peter again, that he needed to prove himself to the others, that there were more problems than the Greater Zombie Master out there. Lydia could tell he was aware of that but also that he disliked the idea of having to prove himself. It was like expected that the arguments were in his favour and that was all there was to it. But Lydia knew that Yoon was right, it would take a lot for the others to accept Peter again as a sort of ally.

He had gotten to an uneasy ally status with Derek and Scott, but by kidnapping her and using her for his ritual Peter had painted himself as villain all over again and also spurned what little trust the others had extended him. There was no remorse for his actions, which only made things that much more difficult with the others.

Peter was nonetheless on board with the meeting on monday, he suggested a time and place in the mall and Yoon would call him tomorrow once she had spoken with the other emissaries or talked to Scott or Derek directly. Despite their disagreements Lydia could see why Peter had wanted her, Yoon was not that secretive and gave actual sound advice. Something she had seen Deaton only do under pressure and never witnessed with Mrs. Morrell.

When Yoon said goodbye and left, she excused herself to the bathroom and began slowly getting herself ready for bed. It took her even longer than usual because she kept looking around in the bathroom, as she tried to figure out what was going on with her. Even when she had lied to Jackson about hating him, she had known very well that she did not. Here she just kept looking into the mirror asking herself what she felt exactly. As she removed the make-up and then took care of her stressed out skin, she stopped as if a deeper look would make her see the answers. Lydia only knew that she should not feel so at ease to go about her regular business, but there was also something soothing and familiar about her daily routine.

Once she was done, had taken a shower and slipped into her nightgown and the robe she went out to make herself another tea. Peter just asked her if she wanted to go and sleep soon: no buzzing around her if she was really okay, if she thought she could handle it - just a simple check for time so he knew if she might need him soon. Lydia realised that was another reason she rather duck this situation out with Peter, she did not miss the way her friends looked at her and how she was constantly asked if she was coping as if she was about to burst and shatter like fragile glass.

Yet, she was still mad at Peter, when some time later, he slipped into bed next to her Lydia had more to say. “I won’t tell the others about my parents, as I do not want to make things more difficult - but I’m not going to forget about it.”

“Why should you?” His tone was amused but revealed that he was proud of his actions.

“I’m not buying that you did this a favour to me, so stop pretending,” Lydia said feeling like she wanted to kick him or jab her elbow into his side. The only reason she did not was the feeling she hurt herself more in the process.

Peter ran his hand over her face, brushing a strand of hair from it. “If you feel like I’m only doing this to get better access to you, then consider this: I could have done nothing and then if not through the Greater Zombie Master or Deucalion, sooner or later something or someone coming after you would have hurt or even killed them. I think my solution is probably the best for all parties involved.”

Lydia let out a sigh. He had not fully convinced her, but Lydia knew she lacked the arguments to convince him, because everything Peter did had more than one side to it and in his mind the positive effects always outweighed the bad ones.


	24. The Thin Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris doesn't like his daughter obsessing about killing Peter and finds himself in the odd position to realise maybe having Isaac around isn't such a bad thing, he also investigates the incident with Ethan and meets a certain esoteric book store owner.
> 
> _Chris sighed. “Just wanting to know if Ethan can tell us anything else about the shooting.”_   
> _Very obviously blocking the entrance to the flat, Aiden stepped closer. “Why? Do you think you can take out Peter’s betas? You can’t even find him or them.”_   
> _“Maybe not, but I might be able to find out what they were doing on Union street,” Chris said calmly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it took so long, I re-read it and found I needed to rewrite a lot, there was so much wrong with this first draft. I'm sure it would benefit from some thorough betaing - but I can't seem to find a heartless cruel to do all that pointing out. So I hope I did an okay job and this is more readable. Also thanks to [SecretsofNell](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4880525/) for helping me find a few issues.

The past days had left Chris feeling more frustrated than ever before. Neither he nor Scott and his pack had been getting any answers to their current crisis. All their efforts seemed to lead to only more problems. With the twins keeping an eye on Lydia their patrols had fallen short. In the end, that hadn’t done any good either since Lydia had been taken by Peter Hale. Forcing them once more to focus on him.

Chris saw all the good reason for taking him out. Not out of revenge, but because of what Allison and Isaac had discovered. There was no excuse for what Peter had done to Lydia. It was only Allison’s extreme fixation with putting a arrows through Peter Hale which gave him pause. It worried him to see Allison in this state once more. It brought back bad memories to the time when Gerard had pulled her strings.

He considered taking that burden from her, but going for the easily solutions had never helped him or anyone in the past. There was another much bigger problem: the killings, the lastest having only occurred last night, were quickly tolling up. Allison was convinced that Peter was behind it but the timing was too close.

Peter couldn’t be busy kidnapping Lydia and then appear at the other end of town taking out two high school students. Just as the cabin had been too far way for Peter to overpower Deucalion somehow and set his ritual up and be back in Beacon Hills to commit another murder.

If Peter had information that could actually help them with that, then maybe it was a bit premature to put him down for what he did to Lydia. Since he had kidnapped her again after the twins hadn’t been there when Deucalion had attacked her, it was probably safer to get her back first. It made Chris also wonder why Peter had neither killed Deucalion, the sheriff or anyone lately.

What kind of example would it set if his first response was to kill instead of solving problems with compromise, when Peter Hale was doing exactly that. He was trained to shoot first and ask questions later and that bothered him more and more. It was one thing to act ruthless during a hunt, when you were at risk of being torn to pieces any second but an entirely different one if became the only response all the time.

Allison had taken those lessons in the short time of her knowing to heart: Gerard, Kate and even he and Victoria had passed on the family tradition in a way that seemed to make it impossible to get through to Allison. Chris could endlessly think about all the mistakes he had made in raising Allison and it wouldn’t help him one bit in getting her to slow down and see things from a different point of view.

Any talk Chris began ended with an argument, with things as they were, they couldn’t afford to spend time yelling at each other. He let Allison and Isaac to look for Peter’s location. Since he couldn’t stop her, he was at least hoping she was going to to be sensible and call it in when she had found something.

It left him the time to check out the parking lot, where the two teenagers - fifteen and sixteen years old - had been making out in their car. The lot was taped off by the police and he could smell the dried blood in the air before he got even close to the parking spot. The car had been removed but the Sheriff had explained that the attacker had dragged one of the boys out of the driver’s car window. The boyfriend in the car had been torn apart as he had tried to start the car.

The dried blood covered a wide area: the boy killed outside the car had his limbs ripped from his torso and his entrails torn across the area. Chris had seen a lot of awful killings but this was different, there was a cold viciousness, he hadn’t witnessed in even the most disturbed werewolf. He was almost glad only to have seen pics, it just left him with the nagging feeling he might have missed something this way. It was like someone revelled in the brutality of the killings and still they seemed so impersonal.

They were getting deeper into the city with each attack as well. Trying to hold back his quick and fatty breakfast, Chris scouted around the lot for bloody paw prints. He did find what seemed to be tracks from the front paws of a big cat and the hind legs of large dog. There was something that looked like it was an especially heavy wolf but not quite.

If he didn’t knew this was impossible he would give more merit to the franken-creature theory. It looked like someone had patched several animals together and let them lose but he couldn't imagine how this was remotely feasible. What was even more worrisome was how the tracks suddenly disappeared. They went off the concrete and where the grass began was no sign of any further tracks.

“We should have moved,” he grumbled.

That had been his first impulse after his own father had nearly murdered them all. It would have spared them a lot of problems. His old man could rot alone in his room for all he cared. As long as he and Allison would never again have to deal with the supernatural. Allison had wanted to stay and Chris hadn’t wanted to drag her all over the country again. He had already taken away too many friendships and chances at having fun with people her age due to their family’s occupation and all the moving around.

It was too late to mourn decisions that couldn’t be revoked.

Chris made mental notes of everything he saw at the crime scene in hopes he could talk with Deaton and maybe stumble upon something that could give them a better hint of what was going on. As he walked back in his car, Chris decided that he might as well try and call Deaton right away. Next move would be to check in with the twins upstairs, hoping that Ethan could tell him more about what happened. Afterwards he wanted to look around on Union Street to see what Peter’s new betas had been doing there and finally go back to the animal clinic.

At least that was the rough plan, since Deaton wasn’t picking up his phone, Chris had no idea if he would be there. So he drove back home and took the elevator to the penthouse. Even though he hadn't expected a warm welcome, the hostility the twin that opened the door displayed was overwhelming. Chris assumed it was Aiden, since Ethan shouldn’t be up according to Deaton.

“What do you want?”

Chris sighed. “Just wanting to know if Ethan can tell us anything else about the shooting.”

Very obviously blocking the entrance to the flat, Aiden stepped closer. “Why? Do you think you can take out Peter’s betas? You can’t even find him or them.”

“Maybe not, but I might be able to find out what they were doing on Union street,” Chris said calmly.

It took him every inch of self restraint not to fall back into old habits. He wanted to draw his gun so badly and use it to shield himself against the aggressive alpha. Realising that this had to be overreaction on Aiden’s part to protect his injured brother helped Chris to keep his cool. Yet, he knew his nervousness and fear must be as transparent as glass to the twin.

“Ethan was going to check out that bookstore Lydia had been to - that’s where he encountered the betas,” Aiden said his voice ripe with annoyance. “So if you want to make yourself useful …”

His plan to ask if it had been Ethan or the other beta who had started this was dropped in favour of making an early exit without provoking Aiden further. Chris realised it didn’t matter to him anyway. That was something the twins and Peter’s pack could settle among themselves. If it had been Ethan who had been the aggressor it could help him convince Lydia to stay away from them in the future.

“I’ll do that,” Chris said and stepped back without taking his eyes of Aiden.

The twin smirked at him, clearly enjoying edging Chris Argent on, before he turned and shut the door loudly. Chris realised that this could have gone a whole lot better and took comfort in the fact it could also have been a lot worse. Either way, he had found the information he needed. Riding the elevator down to his floor, he gathered his weapons, surveillance equipment and some prepacked sandwiches.

Prepared for everything he went down to his car and headed towards Union Street. On his way there he tried calling Deaton again and then landline of the clinic.

It was Scott who picked up. “Mr. Argent?”

“Yeah, is Deaton there?” he asked.

“No, sorry, he hasn’t been in since yesterday,” Scott said, sounding pretty worried.

“You think something happened?” Chris knew that Deaton was somewhat secretive but he wouldn’t have left Scott alone at the clinic without telling him anything.

“He’s worried about his sister, he’ll be back tomorrow, I hope,” Scott explained. “He wanted to visit a mutual friend out of town.”

“Would you call me or tell him to call me, I’ve been at the crime scene and I noticed a few things, not sure if it shakes anything lose but I like to run it by him.”

It was frustrating that everyone seemed to be preoccupied. Which was probably also because there was nothing that actually brought them closer to solving the murders while there was no shortage of events to distracted them. Allison seemed to think those were all planned by Peter but it was too perfect to be pre-planned. It was much more believable that the Nemeton had attracted too many dangerous creatures at once.

“Of course,” Scott agreed.

“Thank you, Scott.” Chris hung up.

There was only one clue left to pursue and Chris continued on his way to Union Street. It was a pretty average street, a Chinese restaurant, a variety of stores, apartments and some offices. He made sure he got feel of the location, before walking up to the front door of the bookstore. Chris pushed the door open and a little bell chimed. He heard a woman and a man talking in the back of the store.

The man was sighing in relief in between words and sounded very grateful. “I can’t thank you enough, these anti-anxiety meds weren’t helping at all and this - this - is the answer to my prayers.”

“You did all the work,” the female sounding voice said. “Meditation isn't that easy to master and all I did was suggest it.”

Chris stepped closer through the row of shelves filled with book and glass cabinets displaying jewelry and mineral stones. The male voice sounded somewhat familiar.

“But I never would’ve tried without you,” the man insisted. “Either way, I just wanted to thank you and tell you how much better I’m doing.”

It was the Beacon Hills High school principal, who was just saying his final thanks and turned the moment Chris stepped into their field of vision. When the principal saw Chris, he stop dead in his tracks and gave him a panicked look. A split second later, he turned and fled quickly through another row of shelves. Whether scaring him out of his job had given him the anxiety problems or if they just had made them worse, Chris felt pretty lousy about it.

“Hello,” the woman was greeting him.

Her mouth was surrounded with a smile but her eyes sized him up. She leaned on a small round high table that was just large enough to have an old cashier and room for a few books. He couldn't help letting his eyes explore the tattoos that covered her arms and back. It didn't help that she wore a black bodice that left most of that free.

“Since you’re not looking that scary,” she said with a sultry undertone as she looked him up as well, “I can only assume you’ve met before.”

There was something in those last words that made him think she knew about the incident. Maybe the principal had mentioned being threatened and she had put one and one together.

“Just a misunderstanding,” Chris replied and smiled.

He couldn't help but feeling a bit boyish when hers widened. Despite the tattoos, which weren't really his thing, he couldn't help but finding her quite pretty. Shaking his head as if he could shake off that thought, he took a step closer.

“Something tells me, you’re not here for books or jewelry,” the woman began and then she tilted her head and seemed to stare right through him. “No, you wouldn’t gift your daughter jewelry, and not a book either, but something else, something made of metal.”

That was eerily creepy, Chris cleared his throat, “Are you psychic or something?”

“Either I’m psychic or, “she paused dramatically, before leaning back to point to a stack of newspapers, “or I could be reading the newspapers around here faithfully, Mr. Argent.”

Chris stared at the cover of the local newspaper. This had come out three days ago and the headline read Why isn’t the Sheriff calling in the Argents for questioning? The article had detailed again their cover story that Kate had done all those killings so they wouldn’t have to explain what really had happened. A move that in hindsight had created more problems than it had solved, since some now wondered with new killings, who else in his family might be up to this.

Unluckily, the article also showed Allison’s picture. Since Allison had turned eighteen, the newspaper no longer afforded her anonymity. It was of course just spreading unnecessary panic and lame accusations but for that he had a false public phone number and a private unlisted one. This way no flaming phone calls came to Allison’s attention.

“You’re not scared?” Chris found himself saying in a tone that was wholly inappropriate.

“Should I be?” she replied.

Childing himself for going too far off topic, Chris decided to somewhat rudely get back on track. “Depends, someone reported a shooting here last night,” he forced his voice to sound neutral and detached.

“Some deputies came by and asked me about it,” she said with a disappointed sigh. “I’m afraid, I couldn’t be much help to them. Is there a particular reason for your personal interest?”

He let out a short breath, she could be all business, too. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what he was doing here in this perhaps silly but nonetheless quite ordinary shop. Then he remembered, Lydia had been here. That suddenly gave him idea. “You’re right, my daughter doesn’t read esoteric books, she barely reads her school books, but a good friend of hers, developed an interest in Esoterics and I kind of forgot to buy her a present for her birthday - so I wanted to do that but then I heard of the shooting and I was worried, since she comes her, too.”

“Ah,” Yoon smiled. “That is so sweet of you.”

Again Chris found himself smiling, even though there was this silent alarm bell ringing in his head. It was something about the way she said it which troubled him for a split second. It was the words that followed along with how she leaned forward that distracted him.

“So, did you had a book in mind, some jewelry or maybe something else?”

Back to sales talk, Chris thought and wondered if he might get something more out of her, if he brought Lydia up specifically. There was something else he hadn’t asked. Something that might help him in establish more of a link with her to get her to open up a bit more.

“You know my name, but I don’t remember hearing yours.”

With his luck, this might be a dead end, Lydia having only been here to buy a simple book without anything sinister happening and he was just bugging this seemingly sweet person for nothing.

“How rude of me, I usually don’t forget that, Yoon is my name, I always go on first name basis with my customers - unless of course they mind,” she explained.

“No, call me Chris,” he replied without thinking. “So you might remember a young girl named Lydia, who recently bought a few things from here?”

Yoon nodded and smiled a little bit. “Yes, she was here, although I’ve known her only for a couple of days, so I’m not sure if I could give you very good suggestions for a present.”

Wondering what he had gotten himself into, he kept trying to get more info out of Yoon. “I believe she’s interested in dreams. Something to do with bad dreams?”

The question was how much detail he could reveal. He knew about her being attacked in her dreams, but if Yoon didn’t knew anything about the supernatural he better kept silent on that part. Chris also thought it might come off odd if he knew too much about his daughter’s friends dream problems. So he acted as if he wasn’t sure, like it was something Allison might have mentioned in passing. He scratched his head. “Just a little thing,” he added.

“I believe, she’s got everything that could actually help,” Yoon said as she looked up in no particular direction thinking hard. “There might be something else.”

Chris watched her as she turned and walked over to a row of books. Stepping on a short shelf hook that was oddly sticking out from a few bookcases, she climbed up to the top of the shelf. He stared at her before turning away, realising that he was gawking at her tattoos and also the rest of her body. When she jumped down, she landed on the carpet without making a sound.

“Here,” she said and held out a book to him.

“This isn’t an esoteric book,” Chris said surprised and looked at the paperback that was titled The Accidental Mind. It was a science book on brain evolution and seemed utterly out of place in the store. He looked around and up to the shelf. The upper shelves were full of books with more scientific sounding titles.

“I do have plenty of those - but I also like to educate people,” Yoon smiled as her words drew in his gaze. “Lydia seemed like a bright young woman, I’m sure she’ll appreciate a more scientific approach and understanding, along with the spiritual guidance she needed.”

Chris knew she was right, he had seen the books Lydia was casually reading when she came over and Allison was busy figuring out her homework. Once he had asked why Allison didn’t let Lydia help more with the homework and his daughter has just told him that Lydia just did things and her explanations just went over Allison’s head.

“I think she might,” he nodded and asked. “So - how much is this?”

“Twenty-four dollars,” Yoon said in a way that made it impossible to say no. They walked over to the cashier and he gave her a twenty and a five dollar bill. Chris didn't want anything back, he felt there was something to be found out but he knew he wasn’t going to get answers by asking Yoon. She handed him the book in a multicolored paper bag, when he declined her offer to wrap it.

When Chris finally left the store, he realised that he should stick around. If he had learned something solid from his years as a hunter that it was best to observe. However Yoon tied into this, his best option was to find a position to observe the store and see who came by or whom Yoon went to see after closing hour.

Driving off, he found a secluded spot for his car. With a supply bag and a sniper rifle, both for the excellent scope and the feeling of security it gave in addition to his sidearm, carried in a maybe not so inconspicuous casing, he made his way to the roof of a house two buildings from the store across the street.

Hiding under grey camouflage tarp, he positioned himself with his rifle. He could’ve used a spyglass or binoculars, but this was how he used to do it. Switching from broad overview to spying directly at Yoon through the scope. It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed any attractive woman since his wife had committed her assisted suicide but Chris had been able to avoid talking to one so far. At least under these circumstances. His basic reaction to her smile and intriguing appearance filled him with guilt now that he had put a safe distance between them.

The longer he sat on that rooftop, the more convinced he was that there was something not quite right. He was sure his guilty conscience played a larger role in it than anything he observed. Yoon closed the shop at eight and went upstairs to her flat which was directly above the store. The curtains were closed and he could make out Yoon’s outline through them. He had been watching locations before but here he avoided looking too often. Just waiting for a bit of motion or a hint about what she was doing.

Which wasn’t much, she seemed to settle down with tea and a book and then turned on her tv. After one more trip to the kitchen he could see her lying down on what had to be the sofa. He didn't see her for a while, if she got up during whatever she watched, then Chris was sure he must have missed it.

Her behaviour reminded him a lot of his own. Before the murders picked up, he had spent far too much time by himself in front of the tv. It wasn't even that he watched anything - he just liked the voices keeping him company. Chris wanted to spend more time with his daughter but he didn't want to impose. He was glad she got along better with the others, even though some of them were werewolves. Up until now, that had been not so much of a problem.

Knowing that she saw more than a friend in Isaac bothered him. He knew he needed to do something about it but he wasn't sure what. Threats hadn't broken up Scott and Allison, Chris was aware it might not work with Isaac either. It would only make Allison withdraw further, but the thought of her being intimate with a werewolf, that was still something he couldn't get over with.

Whatever had been kindling, it was a whole lot better than Allison in her current state. What Peter had done to Lydia had made her so obsessed that Chris worried about her being out there, doing something rash. With a sigh, he sat down in the corner of the roof, he had chosen and called her.

“Allison?” he was worried when it took so long for her to answer.

“Yes, dad, who else?” she replied. Her voice sounded tense and and still angry.

Before he could think of a better way to go about it, he asked bluntly. “Are you home, yet?”

“Dad, I’m 18. No, I’m not home yet. Don’t worry, if anything comes my way, this whole problem will be over.”

Determination swung through in her voice but there was also something else, something that Chris had begun to learn to pick up on: fear.

“Running around all night, isn’t going to bring Lydia back, it only puts you in danger.”

“I can watch out for myself,” Allison groaned annoyed, putting way too much emphasis on each syllable.

“We have no idea what else is out there,” he tried to reason. “It could be something that is as impossible to fight as the kanima. We need more answer - until then I don’t want you out there alone or that late. Is Isaac with you?”

Things had gotten bad enough that he was actually hoping for a positive answer. But Allison said “No”. Chris wasn’t sure if that was her denying Isaac was there out of fear how her father might react but it worked for him.

“Then go home,” he urged her, “take Isaac with you tomorrow - but don’t be out on your own. I’ve got enough to worry about without worrying about you going all reckless again. You know what happened the last time …”

There was a long silence and eventually Allison said: “I won’t stay out all night, but I got one more thing to check, I call if I find something and need backup.”

Chris stared at the phone unable to believe that she had just hung up on him. He knew she was eighteen and should be able to make the decisions in situations like this, but he also saw that she wasn't mature enough. Her view of the situation was clouded and she was bound to make mistakes. Even if she succeeded, he’d rather have his daughter go through life without having to take one.

He only wished Victoria was still around to talk some sense into her. He needed her more than ever. Damn that stupid code! There had been no good reason for her to kill herself. They could have kept her locked up and found a solution that was better for Allison. Damn Gerard! But it was just as much his fault, he had been too inflexible. He had felt that it was wrong but hadn’t been able to do anything. It wasn’t how he was raised, how he thought and once Victoria had made her decision there was no way to deter her from it; a trait he feared had rubbed onto Allison.

Chris went back to looking at the apartment and the changing light from the tv was the only movement. He imagined Yoon lay probably comfortable on the couch, watching whatever she liked in warmth and comfort. While he was crouching on dirty roof top in the cold, hoping that when he came home later tonight Allison would already be there. If she wasn’t, there was little he could do about it.

He used the time to think about their unknown foes but also the one he knew was still out there: Deucalion.

He wasn’t as powerful anymore but Chris felt in his current state of mind he might be even more dangerous. If he was out there looking for Peter and Lydia to get even, he might run into Allison and that was an upsetting thought. He still couldn't understand why Scott and Derek had let him walk away, it was probably too much to ask for them to take of the matter but an alpha so disturbed to not only kill his own pack but get others to follow wasn't the type person Chris would have let go. Deucalion was the prime example for a werewolf that needed to be put down.

Even more so than Peter, whom Chris had considered finding after seeing him on that night when Gerard had revealed who the greatest monster of them all was. In the end, he had decided against it. There was no sign that he was after Allison anymore and his past actions weren't that different from what he was doing. Chris couldn't justify using the code to kill and then turn around to kill someone who essentially had acted in accordance with that code: Hunt those that hunt us.

There were moments when Chris wondered if taking revenge mightn't have been better. In the end, Chris liked to think that he had learnt his lessons: violence and death wasn’t the solution to all problems. He couldn’t have foreseen that it would get Lydia into trouble down the line.

With Yoon either chilling out or being asleep in front of the tv, he found it pointless to remain. He considered that maybe she had slipped out unnoticed, but if that was the case he had lost her long ago. It surprised him that he hoped she was staying the night in. He hated the idea of her being involved and all the problems it might create. It was much more comforting to think that her store was just a store and the shooting happened there for no other reason that she had the wrong customers.

But that would be too easy.

After watching for an hour or he decided it was enough, he wasn't going to find out more and he would be much better focused if he observed her another day taking more care to focus on the task at hand. He packed up and snuck down the stairs and then headed towards his truck.

It was almost eleven pm when he got home and judging by the open door to his daughter’s room she wasn't home. He looked and called out to her and eventually he took out his phone, hoping that she’d answer her cell. His mood couldn’t possible get any worse and the bad feeling in his guts was probably giving him an ulcer.

“Yes, yes,” Allison yelled annoyed as she picked up, “I’m almost home, needed to avoid a few police patrols.”

Then she hung up again: doing more than just slíghtly irritating him. It took her long enough to finally get home. Chris had tried to calm down but when he saw her carrying the mini-crossbow and a stun stick he yelled at her again. It did only put her more on the defensive. She was cold and distant and eventually told him she needed to sleep and left him there standing and fuming.

She wasn’t going to listen him, for some reason he could never get through her when he needed her to listen the most. If he couldn't keep Allison out of trouble, then he needed help as little as he liked it. With some reluctance he sent a text to Isaac’s phone, asking him to have an eye on her tomorrow. He didn’t bother going to bed, he switched off the lights and made himself comfortable on the couch.

While Chris slept miserable, his choice to camp out in the living room proved to be right in light of Allison trying to sneak out of the flat. He sat up and looked at her, that seemed to work a bit better. Her expression softened when she looked at him. Chris wondered if he looked as tired and worn out as he felt.

“I need to keep looking for Lydia,” Allison told him.

“But not alone,” he said and sighed. “I’ve asked Isaac to come over. If you actually do find her, you need back up. Also, he might help you with the actual tracking.”

“You’ve asked Isaac?” she said surprised. “I thought you were mad at him for …”

“No, I’m mad at you - for your lack of judgement. I mean - another werewolf really?” Chris shook his head.

Allison looked at him unsure what to say. “I like who they are - not what they are. What does it matter? Neither Scott nor Isaac have ever really hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. You seemed to like Isaac before.”

“That was before,” Chris sighed again, wondering if maybe it wasn’t so much the idea of his daughter being with a werewolf but the fact that his daughter was having sex. Thinking about her with someone, who wasn’t a werewolf didn’t made things much better.

Having been brought up with the “knowledge” that werewolves were nothing but rabid animals added some more dread for a father to the situation - but he had learned it wasn’t quite as easy. Werewolves were dangerous and powerful but that paled in comparison to some of the deeds done by his own family.

It had been easy to view things as being black and white but reality had caught up to him. Chris wasn’t ready to let go of his severe dislike of Allison having a werewolf as a boyfriend but at least he didn’t feel the urge to shoot and kill to put a stop to that relationship. He was getting there.

He got Allison to eat breakfast with him, when the doorbell rang and Isaac came in. He clearly felt a bit awkward and declined to eat because he had already breakfast with Scott and Melissa.

“How are they doing?” Chris asked remembering that one of the victims had been a colleague and friend of Melissa’s.

“Scott’s mum is pretty worried, even though Scott is only going to the clinic today,” Isaac explained.

Allison smiled. “Maybe she’s worried about you.”

“Oh, she thinks we’re just hanging out here,” Isaac looked weary at her father. “I hope that was okay, I didn’t want her to worry more. It’s a bad time to be living in this town anyway.”

“That is very considerate of you,” Chris told him honestly. He could appreciate how much both - Scott and Isaac - were looking out for Melissa. Since Isaac cared for Allison, Chris felt like he could trust him to look out for her, despite being a werewolf. Or maybe because he was. A human boyfriend couldn't catch a bullet and keep on fighting for her.

“Have you heard?” Isaac suddenly asked.

“What?” Allison said a tad bit too aggressive.

“Derek is back,” Isaac replied his voice just a bit shaky.

Chris saw Allison lower her fork. “So he decided to come back after all. Wonderful maybe he can lead us to Peter.”

Isaac shook his head. “No, he never bothered to find out where Peter lives either. But Derek and Cora, did see him yesterday.” Their questioning looks made Isaac go on. “He was by his old house training his new pack members. Lydia was there, too.”

“Derek left her there?” Allison yelled in disbelief.

Her aggressive tone made Isaac scoot back on his seat. “He didn’t know,” Isaac said defensively, “Scott said he couldn’t believe what Peter had done to her, given that she acted as if she wanted to stay with him.”

His voice became softer near the end under Allison’s serious and frightenly hostile stare and body language. “Right,” she scoffed.

“Allison, just let him tell us what went down - what Derek did or didn’t do isn’t on Isaac.”

“Yeah, sorry,” she mumbled.

Isaac looked at him grateful but biting his lower lip, this wasn’t easy for him. “So, he and the other had this chat about the killings and it seems Peter thinks he has figured out who is behind the killings - at least one group.”

Allison rolled her eyes at the very idea but Chris wasn’t as dismissive. “Allison,” he warned her before giving Isaac an encouraging nod.

“It sounds so silly, but they believe the creature responsible is a Greater Zombie Master.”

“A what?” Allison laughed. “He thinks we fall for that?”

Chris had to admit it sounded ridiculous but he rather hear Deaton’s opinion on that first. “Did someone talk to our resident druid about that?”

“Scott phoned him, it seems that Peter’s emissary is going to talk to have a little expert conference with his boss this afternoon,” Isaac shrugged. “But it seemed like this might be a real possibility. Deaton says he has heard about it but remembers nothing that specific about how to deal with one or how to identify them. Which is apparently what Lydia managed to do.”

Chris wondered how they had found it out but he hoped that they would find out more from Deaton, maybe if they met at the animal clinic he could join the conversation. He certainly liked to get a good look at whomever had taken on the role of being Peter’s emissary.

“Is there anything else Derek mentioned - for example about the new pack members?” Chris tried to sound out Isaac for more information.

He could tell it was making the young werewolf uncomfortable to be questioned like that. Chris wanted to assure him that nothing bad would come out of Isaac giving up intel on the other werewolves. However, if the confrontation with Ethan was any indications, they might be too wild and dangerous and had to be taken out.

“They aren't teenagers, the Mexican guy is about Peter’s age and the Native American woman is a bit younger,” Isaac begun but stopped when he saw Allison rolling her eyes impatiently.

Chris shot her a sharp glance and then encouraged Isaac to go on.

“Derek knew the guy, something about his pack coming to Beacon Hills on occasion to ask Talia for advice. He’s a born wolf, but the woman was obviously bitten recently by Peter.”

“Hmm,” Chris took in that piece of info not sure what to make of it.

“What?” Allison asked seeing his expression.

“It’s unusual for a grown-up werewolf from another pack to be taken in by a new alpha. Omegas try to get into packs but that seldom works out,” Chris explained. “At least that might mean they won’t establish a proper pack connection. For that to happen there needs to be bonding and the best pre-requisite for that is having been bitten by the alpha.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Isaac sounded unconvinced.

“Is there something else?” Chris asked.

The young beta shook his head a bit too quickly. Whatever it was, it had to be something big for him to be so reluctant to tell them. He kept looking at Isaac, who then caved in. “Derek mentioned, that there seemed to be a strong connection between the three. Almost - almost as if he couldn’t believe Peter managed to achieve that.” Isaac sighed and then added with a low tone. “Given that he didn’t.”

“Clearly, Peter selected them with much more care.” Chris got the feeling that Peter had learned from his mistakes in the previous year.

“He’s been lying in wait - planning this all this time.” Allison was curling her lips in disgust. “Any idea why he chose those two?”

Isaac shrunk a bit more in his seat and Chris couldn't blame him. The sharp, icy tone and the underlying aggression in Allison’s voice did make him uncomfortable as well. “There has to be a bonding element. Turning the girl-friend alone wouldn't connect the Mexican wolf to the pack by default.”

“Who knows?” Isaac said, obviously holding back and as he was looking for a hole in the ground to sink into.

“Isaac!” Allison sounded very impatient.

Chris wanted to point out that a calmer tone worked better with Isaac, when the boy did spoke up, his voice filled with pain. “You don’t want to know.”

“What did they murder puppies together as kids? Resided over the high schools rape club? Buried each other kills?” Allison assumed with the most condescending tone.

Isaac shook his head almost unnoticably, looking at her scared. Chris tried to get his attention but did it by using a much softer tone. “You can tell us. Every piece of information can only be useful.”

“Okay.” Isaac pressed his lips together, then let out a deep breath, before he started his explanation. “They share a bond, because - their packs got killed by the same person.”

“Kate,” Chris let out his breath. This was indeed a blow. He probably should have seen this coming. It was no wonder Isaac was so reluctant about bringing it up, but he confirmed it with a simple ‘yes’.

What worried him even more than Isaac’s composure was the dark expression on his daughter's face. Kate’s descent into madness had hit her the hardest. She had always idolized her aunt, finding out she had murdered innocent kids had been bad enough but thanks to Gerard she had almost walked down the same path.

Feeling that she needed a moment to digest the news, he turned back to Isaac. “Thanks for telling us.” Chris knew how difficult this had been for him. The boy needed to hear that his information, however unpleasant, was needed and would never get him into trouble with him.

“So can we expect them to come after us?” Allison wanted to know.

Isaac shrugged. “For now, at least from what Peter said so far, it seems he’s focusing his efforts on putting an end to the killings. He seems worried about it attracting more hunters. Since it already has gotten the FBI involved.”

“You believe that?” Allison shook her head.

“Scott does,” he answered her and lowered his gaze to the table.

“That is a whole new level of blind trust.”

“We can’t rule out any possibility. Certainly, Peter is planning something but we can’t be sure that the killings are actually his doing.” Chris looked at Allison. “You told me yourself, that the ritual has turned Beacon Hills back into a beacon. We can’t ignore the possibilities that one or both of the killers are other supernatural beings attracted by that.”

Allison wasn’t open to that possibility, Chris saw it on her face. At least she didn’t outright protest, it was a bit of progress. He needed her to see reason but he also didn’t want to push her away further. She needed to know that he was there for her, that if she actually found Peter, he would be there to help her get Lydia back and do whatever else was necessary to ensure that.

“I’m going to pursue other angles, talking to Deaton, maybe getting a few more bits of information out of Derek, if he’s around and then finding out more about those new betas and what happened in front of the bookstore,” Chris explained to them and with a´long look at Allison he ended by telling her that if she found anything, she should call him. There was nothing so important that he wouldn’t be there to help her get Lydia back.

“We’re going to call you,” Isaac assured him.

“Yeah, sure,” Allison replied, her eyes narrowing and making her look fiercely determined. “Unless we need to defend ourselves with deadly force before you get a chance to be there.”

Chris sighed, he knew Allison felt utterly helpless about not being able to do anything for Lydia, but he was so worried that her need to do something about it was clouding her judgement. With someone like Peter Hale that could end deadly for her. “Just remember,” he told her, hoping not to come off as too lecturing, “that the last time you all worked together to take Peter down. He’s no doubt going to take you more seriously and he has two betas on his side. Even for an experienced team of hunters this would be a real challenge.”

Allison at least nodded, but Chris felt that he wasn't really getting through to her. Maybe she’d think about it and realise the truth behind it.

“How did you take, Peter out, by the way?” Isaac asked, curiosity written all over his face. “Derek mentioned you all set Peter on fire but not really much more than that. Scott wasn’t really forthcoming either.”

Bringing that event up, did lighten up Allison’s face. Chris wasn’t really sure how to feel about that. Maybe recounting how many factors and people had contributed to them taking out Peter then would give her a better perspective on what it would mean to engage him in another fight.

“After the fight moved out of the house, Stiles and Jackson showed up and Stiles threw a Molotov Cocktail - which Peter caught.” Allison began, an amused smiled on her lips whenever she paused. “Then Scott threw me my bow and I shot the bottle and - voilà - it lit him up like a roman candle.”

Chris saw that Isaac’s mimic was stuck somewhat between fascination and horror. With a dismissive shrug Allison then mentioned that Jackson also threw one of those self-made cocktails.

“Do you always have these molotov cocktails handy?”

“No,” Allison laughed off Isaacs worried question, “I think Stiles and Jackson made those specifically for that night. Lydia kind of taught them how to that night when Peter attacked us at school.”

That was news to Chris, but it probably shouldn't surprise him. Lydia had many hidden talents and her new supernatural abilities were only adding to those. He sighed: “Glad to see someone is paying attention in class.”

“I think I could make one, too - but it might be too dangerous to carry them around in my purse,” Allison frowned.

“That is a wise decision - besides I doubt that Peter is going to fall for the same maneuver twice. He clearly is taking a more measured approach,” Chris pointed out.

It was hard staying calm especially since Allison was so livid about the issue, the moment he stopped, she spoke up. “Measured? I’m surprised he hasn’t tried moving against us already. Even if he’s just behind one of those killings - it’s far from being measured!”

“If he was behind those, he’d probably used them to go after us - considering how much we’re footing around in the dark - nobody would have been the wiser,” Chris explained his reasons for reserving judging on Peter’s possible role in the kidnappings. “Either way, just because we mightn't be on his list right now or haven’t been so far - you need to be careful. Until we know what he’s planning.”

“Scott thinks he might actually want to help and stop that Zombie creature,” Isaac suddenly spoke up and then cringed when Allison’s harsh gaze fell upon him.

“In that case, Scott needs his head examined.”

Isaac scratched his head: “But it would make sense, Peter mentioned to Derek that the creature is too powerful for just one alpha to take out. He’d probably stay away from you - until he’s gotten rid of that thing with Scott’s help.”

“In theory, we got Scott and the twins - once we get Lydia back, we don’t need Peter,” Allison said, sounding at least a bit more rational.

“Yes, maybe - he seems to know things about the creature - we probably should explore all options before we take drastic measures,” Chris tried to keep the conversation to constructive arguments.

“Dad, he killed Kate, raped Lydia and almost killed me!” she burst out. “Isn’t that enough?”

He wasn’t arguing against that. It wasn’t what bothered him about the issue: after the latest stunts he had no moral qualms taking Peter Hale out. His concerns lay elsewhere.

“I’d just wish that when it comes to a confrontation you’d call me for back up. You shouldn’t ever be in a position to have to be the one who takes a life. No matter how justified it feels.”

His voice felt so solemn and yet, it seemed to have no effect on his daughter.

“He’s on borrowed time anyway,” she reminded them. “I’ve also helped in killing him already. I don’t see putting him back in the ground as such a big issue.”

Chris shook his head, when Isaac surprised him by weighing in on the subject. “You know, Derek was the one to finish him off and you should be glad for that.”

“Yeah, says the guy who was gleefully ready to kill Lydia,” Allison said. There was a pause as if she regretted it as soon as she said it. Bringing that up was clearly hurting Isaac, who blushed a bit and looked down on his empty plate again.

“We thought, we had to - I don’t know what got into me, but I’m glad it turned out differently,” he whispered, his voice rich with embarrassment.

“Well, it’s Derek fault,” Allison told him and reached out , “we all were freaked out a bit about how unstoppable the Kanima was.”

It was good to see that despite the arguments, Allison still was caring for him. Chris couldn’t believe that this would make him feel better about the whole situation. “So are you two heading out then?”

“Yeah, we should get going, I got some more ideas where to look and I’ve talked to someone at a restaurant who said that someone matching Peter’s description had come by several times for take-out,” Allison explained proudly.

“I’m impressed you got a lead.” Chris smiled at her. “I’m going to look into something and then head to Deaton’s later on - but if anything comes up - call me. I’ll get to you as soon as possible.”

“Don’t worry we will,” Isaac assured him.

Allison chuckled darkly and stood up. “Yeah, unless of course we got to fight for our lives.”

“A good hunter finds their prey without it noticing the hunter approaching,” he reminded his daughter as she walked away from the table.

“Don’t worry, I intend to be careful,” she replied without looking back.

Isaac pushed his chair back and with one last glance at Chris he followed Allison out of the room. Taking a moment to close his eyes, he rested his head in his palms before getting up as well. When he stepped out into the corridor, he saw the two putting on jackets and then with a final nod from him, they left.

What remained was a bad feeling that this wasn’t going to end well. He couldn’t follow her around everywhere. It would only undercut their trust further and made it more likely for her to do something rash the minute he had to be elsewhere. It was a sad truth that as a parent you could never be around everywhere. He couldn't be everywhere.

More than ever Chris wished there was someone he truly could count on. Things had gotten too complicated, they had always been, but now he couldn't ignore this anymore. Calling in more hunters would only get Scott and Isaac killed and not necessarily put an end to the killings. He couldn't even be sure that the hunters would get the jump on the more dangerous werewolves.

Allison might not understand this but right now they needed everyone, even Peter, to bring this nasty situation to an end. But patience wasn't a trait usually found in youth and Allison had run fresh out of whatever little she had possessed of it.


	25. Bloody Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia and Peter discuss what they need to do and investigate on this sunday ...
> 
> _It didn’t surprise her in the least when the door opened a few minutes later and Peter joined her. She wasn’t interested in hearing what he had to say. “Get lost,” she told him._   
> _“This is my bedroom,” he reminded her._   
> _Lydia wasn’t having any of that. “I thought it belonged to a witch.”_   
> _“Right now, it’s mine,” Peter began and then smiled widely. “Well, maybe at the moment ours.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofed myself, hope I didn't overlook too many mistakes, still working on this fic, but got side tracked a bit by [Mating Games](http://mating-games.livejournal.com/) which was awesome, I probably finish a story or two, while also working on AaA.

Lydia was about to wake up. Her mind was still fuzzy as she stretched on the bed, getting rid of the tardiness of sleep. Curling up again, she remember whose bed she was sleeping in. As usual Peter was gone and she had the whole bed to herself. The curtains in front of the window were still closed but enough light fell through it. So it was already morning just not as late as yesterday.

One thing was different in that she heard the shower running. As Lydia looked over to the bathroom she saw the door was slightly ajar. Yawning, Lydia decided to remain in bed a bit longer. The bathroom was blocked anyway and she felt comfortable where she was. It was nice and warm.

One good night full of restful sleep had made a difference. While she had slept in yesterday, she had still felt out of sorts and the whole trip to the woods hadn’t sat well with her. Despite her formerly high profile in school, she prefered her alone time or time just spend with Jackson. Which had probably to do with the fact that while he liked talking about himself, she didn’t need to listen to him but could still enjoy being snuggled up close to him.

Even lying there, Lydia thought about how they would need to buy groceries. Furthermore, she wanted to try and see if she could get more clothes from home. If the moment felt right she’d bring it up. Expecting disagreement from Peter, she hoped that arguing that there was probably nobody watching her house, to persuade him. As she was stuck here for a few more days, she simply needed more clothes.

Lydia sighed, when she recalled that Peter had taken steps to permanently invade her life.

She would have to see how to get him out of it again - but that had to wait. Apart from their Zombie master problems, there was something else running around killing people and if Stiles’ theory was right those unusual accidents might indicate a third problem. It was too much to get done in just a few days. As long as people turned up dead in great numbers, Lydia knew she did not want her parents anywhere near Beacon Hills.

The shower was turned off and a series of familiar noises prepared her for Peter walking back into the bedroom. He obviously had not expected her to be awake. Lydia responded to his ‘morning’ with an equally awkward ‘morning’. All this while she was unable to stop staring at Peter who was just dressed in a towel wrapped around his hips.

At first it was involuntary, when her looking was noticed Lydia decided to keep it up rather then look away in embarrassment. Doing her best to try to and appear not particularly impressed she let out a bored sigh. Peter smiled as she walked over to the wardrobe, assembling clothes from it. He laid them on the edge of the bed and after fetching his underwear from a drawer, he turned back towards. her.

He was about to pick up the rest of his clothes, then he stopped his movement and put his free hand on the upper rim of the towel. “Do you mind?”

Lydia just rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen you naked before.”

As usual her comment amused him and after having a short laugh, Peter dropped the towel onto the bed. He was in no hurry to slip into his underwear or to turn. Lydia told herself she didn’t avert her gaze just to show how little she cared but if she was honest she did appreciate the sight. Peter gave her a questioning look.

“Well, it wasn’t a very clear look,” she replied feeling particularly proud of herself this morning.

It was like she was getting back to form. This whole past week she had felt stressed out and irritated at the tiniest things and once more she could gawk at someone without blushing or acting as if she never had seen a naked man. Lydia enjoyed being more in control of herself, especially since Peter made no remarks about involuntary physical reactions.

He sat down the edge of the bed, leaning closer to her. “So how’s your outlook this morning?”

Half a dozen witty comebacks came to mind but Lydia decided that gestures were so much more appropriate for dealing with his inappropriate innuendos. So she settled for a look that she reserved for sales persons suggesting a particularly vile piece of clothing, shrugged and then went to the bathroom herself.

By the time she was done and ready to get dressed herself she had the bedroom all to herself. There was of course the danger that he might walk in on her but Lydia was beyond caring, thinking about his earlier question, she thought that maybe she had a more positive outlook. The overall situation was still dire but she felt she had a good handle on it.

With her limited selection of clothing Lydia felt a bit underdressed but for a trip to the supermarket her selection was workable. She took out a pantihose from the side pocket of her overnight bag, grateful she always had three spare ones stored there and after putting it on slipped into socks. After all it was cold outside and they wouldn’t be visible with her boots. Those looked better with the blue dress she had brought with her. Her fast packing had not been the best but she could live with the end result. It wasn’t like she had been taken to trips into cold outdoors by her friends with less preparation. She could stand having her knees exposed like that.

By the looks of it, Peter was already done eating breakfast but he had left out a plate and other stuff for her. She saw him lying on the couch, his face obscured by the heavy volume that he was studying.

Lydia went to look in the fridge and was reminded again how it was almost empty, she grabbed the toast and the remainders of the cold meat to make herself a quick breakfast. “So any other plans than buying something to eat today?”

“Not really,” Peter replied and let the book sink down. “Although, I’m tempted to take a look at that cemetery.”

“I’m not,” Lydia said quickly and decisively.

The old cemetary was the last place she wanted to go. Whatever was there kept affecting her and staying away was the only protection from that. Peter shrugged at her reaction. “Oh, well maybe not today.”

As he went back to reading, she finished preparing her breakfast. Afterwards she sat down to eat but despite feeling hungry her appetite was down. Thinking about her visions near the mausoleum had a worse effect on her than she had imagined. The second time she went back it had been mostly to prove to herself that she had not imagined this and that the statues were there. That experience had only re-affirmed her instinct had been right and her visions weren’t some crazy hallucinations.

“Could we stop by my house? I need more clothes,” Lydia asked not feeling up to figuring out the most opportune moment to bringing it up.

“Hmm,” Peter said from behind the book, “I suppose we could, just as we could stop by the cemetery.”

Whatever good mood was there upon waking up was certainly gone now, she didn’t even want to eat anything anymore. She slid back the chair and got up. “Fine, forget it,” she snipped back.

Before Lydia even knew what she was doing, she stormed off back into the bedroom. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Peter’s confused look as he let the book sink down again. Once inside the bedroom, she shut the door loudly. Immediately she was angry with herself for letting this get to her in such an obvious manner. Peter had a way of getting her to do things she didn’t want to. In comparison to the other things, going near the mausoleum wasn’t that horrible, but Lydia just had enough of it.

It didn’t surprise her in the least when the door opened a few minutes later and Peter joined her. She wasn’t interested in hearing what he had to say. “Get lost,” she told him.

“This is my bedroom,” he reminded her.

Lydia wasn’t having any of that. “I thought it belonged to a witch.”

“Right now, it’s mine,” Peter began and then smiled widely. “Well, maybe at the moment ours.”

The infuriating thing was that she couldn’t even say this whole concept was against her wishes, but the way he brought it up was reminding her that she didn’t had any privacy either. Hoping that there was a lock on the guestroom door, she turned to leave.

“Fine,” she told him upset and attempted to storm past Peter.

Only he didn’t let her, stopping her by blocking her way with his arm, Peter pulled her closer. Lydia kept staring down, her entire body tense and ready to resist whatever he might try to make her do.

“I’m really curious what it is with that crypt that it scares you so much,” he began. “You faced the Zombie Master again and again, yet a simple vision scares you so much that you’re not even willing to go near the cemetery?”

Lydia had to admit - at least to herself - it probably was an unreasonable fear. However, whatever was there in that mausoleum felt a lot more awful than the zombie master. Maybe it was a symbol for everything getting worse. After everything that happened to her, Lydia hadn’t thought it to be possible.

After being maimed, she was made to feel like she was losing her mind only to discover that she had developed the uncanny ability to locate corpses. After being almost strangled by an insane darach who had nearly killed the twins when they had tried to protect her from what had seemed like attempt number two. Of course, this time she had been bait. All that after she had helped with this ritual that had brought even more death to Beacon Hills. Leaving her to face that nightmarish thing from the crypt dream only to discover that there was something worse waiting in a mausoleum.

“I just don’t see how going there again is helping anything,” Lydia said, trying to pull away. “I’m just going to freak out again.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you go that close again - but I’d like to take a look,” he explained with a serious expression. “But if it upsets you that much, we won’t go.”

Suppressing a sniffle, Lydia looked up. She wanted to ask ‘really’ but it seemed to passive and with one last sniff, she said determined. “We’d better not.”

“We’ll see how you feel about it, once we picked up more clothes from your place,” Peter tilted his head and leaned a bit more towards her. “What?” he commented her surprised look. “I wasn’t suggesting that one depended on the other, just that it would be no effort to go to both. You don’t honestly think I’m looking forward to dragging you somewhere that might end with me having a substantial earache?”

She nodded, hiding her relief, by re-affirming his notion. “That’s exactly what would happen. It’s not like I found out something the last time I was there - except that it happened again.”

“We can eventually use that to our advantage,” Peter pointed out while trying to calm her down further by stroking through her hair.

“Advantage?” she scoffed his efforts to give this a positive spin.

He sighed, but his explanation remained calm without a hint of being upset. “Yes, we know one place that causes you to have pretty vivid visions. When you feel up to it, we can use it help you spot these places. That way you can avoid accidentally stumbling into these spots and just do it when you believe it’s necessary.”

It was something she hadn’t considered, it was true the closer she got to the mausoleum, the more intense the feeling became. Her past tendency to ignore these sensations and glimpses into the supernatural hadn’t exactly helped her avoiding them either. It reminded her of what Yoon had said about standing in the corner or facing this new world she had been tossed into.

Lydia thought Peter’s proposal had some merit. It was something she might have come up with, if there wasn’t still this dread that took hold of her whenever her powers were concerned. Peter was right, she had faced the Zombie Lord, she could do this. At the moment, she would rather not have an episode like that.

“Well, I’d rather steer clear of the cemetery but maybe - if I don’t have to get close to the spot - then maybe later I’m good with going there,” she stated and while she was setting terms. “Now, get your grabby paws of me.”

Lydia realised that Peter headed her demand and almost immediately stepped back. She saw the disappointed look on his face as he asked: “I suppose now you want me to get out?”

“I’ve wanted you out ten minutes ago,” Lydia remarked but she didn’t feel as angry anymore.

Truth was she might have paced around upset for minutes or longer if Peter hadn’t come after her and cleared up that she had gotten the wrong message. Lydia was sure he had purposefully made it sound like he was aiming for a ‘quid pro quo’ deal. Maybe he had and then changed his mind hoping that this course of action would benefit him more.

It was hard to tell with Peter. Despite knowing that he hadn’t always the worst intentions, Lydia was still jumping to the worst case scenario first. Which Peter totally deserved. However, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He might not be up to anything benevolent but he probably wasn’t pursuing some totally evil scheme, either. Time would tell.

For a brief moment after her reply Peter looked at her curiously, then he shrugged and turned. At the door he turned. “I’m ready to go, but do feel free to eat something. We can leave whenever you’re ready. In the meantime, I’m going through this book on cult rituals - you wouldn’t believe how many different rituals involving really gross mutilations are out there.”

Seeing her raise eyebrow, he tilted his head. “Or maybe you would,” then he left her alone.

Lydia sat down on the bed and took a deep breath. It was weird, that she was in one moment so upset about the crypt and as soon as Peter had strolled in, she got all worked up about him. Once Peter actually left and respected her wishes, she felt quite optimistic again. It made her think that maybe she was okay with letting Peter take a look at the cemetery -- but only after she was absolutely sure that he wasn’t going to make her go near that awful place. Under no circumstance she wanted to feel the dread this spooky run down piece of masonry again.

She also wondered why Peter had not made that last remark about the cult killings, it didn’t seem like he had wanted to upset her. It had to be about the other killings, the one that weren’t killed by the zombie animals. Lydiae got up, took a deep breath and walked back into the living room. Peter wasn’t on the sofa, he was in the kitchen making himself a tea.

“Want one, too?” he said handling the kettle with the hot water.

Lydia nodded. “Sure.”

While he got out a second mug and put the tea bag in it, she caught up to the other side of the kitchen counter. Sitting down on the high chair in front of it, she asked. “So, you think it might be a cult or are just looking for the reason behind these killings?”

“It’s more a fishing expedition,” he replied. “I was at the station the other day - listening in to the officers chattering when they thought nobody would hear them.” Lydia rolled her eyes at the remark, but she kept listening, as Peter continued. “They mentioned something about the killer using an axe and then setting his dogs on him or something like that as a theory. There were also organs and body parts missing - presumably eaten.”

Peter shrugged it off and set the two mugs with tea to the side to let them brew.

“Yes, the autopsy report said something about that, the Sheriff mentioned something like it last Saturday,” Lydia told him.

It seemed like such a long time ago, that they all had gotten along and planned a way to counter the killings. As it had turned out their plan had been somewhat futile, apart maybe from what she had tried: not counting the part where her own efforts nearly had gotten her killed. She really had to convince the others to let Peter and also Yoon see those reports, it was too late to have them see the remains but they might have insights that had escaped the others.

“Whoever,” Peter rolled his eyes to the side, “or whatever is doing this, is very good at obscuring its tracks. Maybe - just maybe if you get another dead body vision and I could get there before the police ...”

Lydia nodded, he didn’t need to say more. Peter knew more about things that were out there than any other werewolf in Beacon Hills, if he had the chance to examine an undisturbed crime scene, it could give them new insight. Just as he might see something if he had access to all the information. “I could call Stiles and see if he can talk the others into giving us a copy of the autopsy report. I so need my phone back.”

Peter leaned on the counter not really entering her personal space but close enough to make her heart beat a bit faster. “I might be mistaken but didn’t it end up in a thousand pieces on your bathroom floor?”

“Yeah, but the cards might still be salvageable, either way I need a new cellphone,” she replied as if to say that wasn’t upset about that event more. It was of course not the destruction of her phone that had gotten to her but what occurred directly afterwards.

“We can look for those,” Peter agreed, “I suppose you didn’t make a backup copy of your data?”

Lydia shook her head slowly and pouted. “No, I’m always very careful with my smart phones. Especially considering the insane amount of time I needed to call the police in the last year.”

That made him smile. “That’s only because nobody told you what was really going on. You didn’t call the police when Deucalion came after you. You called me!”

There was both pride and satisfaction in his voice and Lydia wasn’t having any of it. “You presumably were on your way over and I just needed to press the re-dial number as you were the last person to call me.”

“Anyway, I’m glad I wasn’t too late,” Peter told her as if he meant it, “I was on my way but I might not have hurried had you not called.”

While she tried not to think about what might have happened if he had arrived minutes later, Peter had turned towards the tea mugs and removed the bags. He picked them up and gestured towards the table. “Found some appetite?”

Lydia sighed and got up to walk to the table. Her appetite was pretty moderate but her hunger was becoming noticeable. Thankfully, he just placed her mug on the table and went towards the couch. Peter didn’t pick up his book though, he leant against the backrest and kept looking at her. Almost as if he expected something from her. While she could not stand these type of situations, she forced herself to play it cool.

The result was her eating the sandwich and enjoying her tea after blowing a bit on it to cool it down faster. Eventually, Peter gave in and spoke again.

“I’m sorry, that Deucalion hangs over your head, but I’m … we’re going to need Scott’s and Derek’s help if there is any hope in solving this problem.” Lydia rolled her eyes and if not for the sandwich bite in her mouth would have said something. He picked up on it, before she had swallowed it. “I know, you think, I didn’t know that then. True - but as a gesture of goodwill, I wanted to show that I’m reasonable enough not to kill anyone.”

Lydia let out an offended laughter, before taking a deep breath. “What you did instead upset everyone even more.”

Peter shrugged. “Everyone but you.” Those words hit her like a wall of bricks and he wasn’t giving her a chance to reply. If she had not been so shocked, she might have yelled at him, that this was only because he already had done to her what was more upsetting. Instead she listened to Peter continue. “Truth is, as long as nobody gets killed and sometimes even then, Scott and everyone around him, are pretty forgiving.”

Shaking her head, Lydia just kept on eating. He was right, this was how things were handled around here and Peter was counting on it. As crazy as it seemed, with her being with him, she gave even more legitimacy to this claim. She even wanted the others to come around so they could solve this problem and it seemed once more Peter was getting away with his shady and awful behaviour.

“I’m not,” Lydia said, while he looked at her curiously. “I might if you stop that Zombie thing, and whatever is axing people apart so their pet can chew on them. There’s the matter of me learning to control my abilities and then maybe … maybe!”

Holding her head up high, she raised the mug and took another sip of tea, while observing him over the rim.

“Then I shall remain hopeful, since I’m going to do all that,” he answered her and then leading a bit forward he added. “Bu Deucalion will still be out there.”

“I’m not going to ask you to kill him,” Lydia shot him down right away. She imagined that this was what he wanted to hear, even though he would never admit it now and Peter proved her right immediately.

He shrugged and with an entirely too optimistic and playful tone, he replied: “I’ve no idea where that came from, but I’d considered it if you ever changed your mind.”

Lydia shooked her head. “I don’t know why you guys seem to think that offering to kill people for me is going to win you any points.”

It was so much the opposite, death had never sat right with her. Even Peter killing that arsonist gone video sale clerk had upset her: back then she had been outside in the car and not yet on her way to find dead bodies. Still she was so besides herself that her parents provided her with something to calm down.

Peter was of course not taken back the slightest and just asked amused. “Hmm, have the twins been offering my head on a silver platter?”

“I think,” Lydia began and looked at him to not miss the reaction, while holding hers back as much as she could. “I might have asked them about any part.”

That only increased his amusement. “I don’t know about the platter but all you’ve got to do is ask.”

At first she wanted to tell him where he could stuff his innuendos but she dreaded his response to that. Instead she went for the straight comeback. “It’s not going to happen and if you drug me again, I’ll take the twins up on that offer.”

Finally, the smile was showing on her face as his went away. He took a deep breath and there was a look on him as if he was disappointed and it felt good. Peter had probably believed that she would come around. Hoping because she happened to be attracted to him, she would just get over it and eventually act as if nothing bad had ever happened. It wasn’t that easy. Lydia might forgive him, if his actions redeemed him but that went far beyond what she had requested and Lydia was sure it would never come to that.

“Lydia, what I did - I had to do,” Peter replied as sincere as he’d ever been. “But you should know that I am grateful for your help - however unwilling it was. You might discover that you can count on my protection more than on anyone elses.”

Somehow she felt him protecting her was like the wolf guarding the chicken hut to ward off the fox, however for now, with the zombie lord out there and Peter unfortunately being the best repellent Lydia wasn’t going to argue this point. When she didn’t say anything, Peter continued his argument.

“You might feel right now, that you can’t trust me, I think I wouldn’t trust myself either - but as you said I always look out for my best interests and that would include taking care of you. Helping you reach your full potential. Whatever else might happen, I told you: we’d be a great couple - but if you say no - I can accept that.” Her intense stare got him to amend that. “Barring rare hopefully not re-occurring circumstances.”

Lydia laughed as she realised this was just another way of saying ‘I hope you won’t die again and stay an Alpha’. Whether he had planned to get her to say something like it, it felt unreal because she shouldn’t feel that way. She wished Peter would stay out of her life, no matter how often she had indulged in revengeful thoughts, in the end she didn’t wished him dead. As for Peter being an alpha, they would have to see what he did with it apart from turning Naira and forming a new pack.

“So, once you’ve eaten,” he asked her, instead of addressing what she had just said: “shall we go and take care of business? I assume you want to start training sooner rather than later?”

“Of course, I need to get this over with, so we might as well do that when we get back and,” she pointed out: “you tell me in more detail what I’ve got to expect.”

“Fair enough,” Peter replied.

It took them a full hour to get to the garage after their less than cheerful conversation. After that they mostly discussed how much she should pack and that they probably could go back and get more. That there were washers and dryers on every floor, which was good to take into account. It turned out they both were able of doing their own laundry. After all, Mrs. Allen couldn’t do everything and with Peter, he was probably to mistrusting to hire someone. The thought of him folding his clothes or even ironing amused her for some reason. Lots of their clothes needed dry cleaning but the majority could be washed.

At her house were enough suitcases for her clothes, so there was no need to bring something to transport them. They needed a lot of groceries, so Peter decided to bring a stable box that would hold three shopping bags. Adequately prepared they drove out and Lydia made a note to bring some sun glasses, as the sky was clear and the sun hit her directly in the eyes.

In one tense moment on their way, they passed a police car but the deputies didn’t react or turn around trying to stop them. “It looks like the Sheriff did the smart thing.”

“He didn’t call my parents either,” Lydia said in agreement, “but that doesn’t mean it’ll stay this way.”

“You don’t have much faith in your friend’s ability to make the right decisions,” he teased her.

If Peter wanted her to admit that her friends weren’t always making the best decisions, he was mistaken. “It would seem ‘right’ in this case, depends a lot on how you look at it.”

“Yes,” he smiled. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”

Lydia looked at him and realised she was not even upset. Nothing had been clear cut in her life since he had entered it. Before it probably wasn’t either but at least she had been able to pretend. Now, everything was uncertain and even analysing the situation every way she turned there were so many drawbacks to all the possible good that might come from it.

“I just miss doing something and feeling good about it,” Lydia suddenly said, not sure why she revealed to someone who probably just use it against her. “Like not having regrets or wondering what catastrophe my actions will cause next.”

Peter didn’t answer right away, he took a deep breath before he replied: “I wouldn’t say, bringing me back from the dead or bestowing Deucalion’s powers on me was a catastrophe.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” she clarified. “I’ve helped create this mess, but the ritual wasn’t the only thing. But honestly it’s none of your business what else I’m conflicted about in my personal - not supernatural aspects of my life.”

“You brought it up.” Peter shrugged. “I know you don’t like people prying into your personal life but you should know - I’m not judging. I was a teenager, too. ”

“As if I would let a Hale tell me who I can date or not,” she grumbled back, remembering very well about Derek and Cora insisting she stayed away from Aiden. It wasn’t that unreasonable but she disliked the manner. With the way things had turned out between them, the thought that it had proved them right in some way made Lydia even more grumpy. She knew her relationship problems had nothing to do with how dangerous her dates were.

It was all because it turned out that you couldn’t count on boys to be true to their words. With Jackson it was first you’re my girl and then you’re dead weight. Including a repeat performance of the same event. With Aiden it was casual sex only suddenly it was supposed to be more from his side. Lydia really couldn’t win with guys.

At least she knew that Peter was the last person she’d trust to be honest with his claims about wanting a real relationship. As if she’d fall for that one, especially after he had appeared as his younger self to her. Lydia was not sure what to make of that, but she hated that he had gotten to her, in a way that she still felt betrayed by all their fake head talks seemed to promise.

‘Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me,’ she thought.

“So you’re currently in a general phase were you reconsider your habit of dating werewolves?” Peter kept teasing her. “Or are you just tired of the overly clingy one?”

“Yes, I’m tired of the clingy one - but I sort of need him now,” Lydia replied.

Two could play that game. “Well, I could try to be less clingy - but you seem to enjoy sleeping with me pressed against you. There’s this cute little moan coming from your lips when you’re half asleep and cuddle against me.”

“Watching me in my sleep? That’s so Twilight,” Lydia poked fun at him.

“Ouch,” he retorted. “Comparing me to Edward. That’s really below the belt.”

Lydia smiled and rested her elbow on the window sill, so she could lean her head on her hand and look at Peter. “What’s really embarrassing is that you knew what I was talking about.”

“Believe me that’s a piece of pop-culture knowledge I’d been happier without. However, one of my old nurses thought it was good for coma patients to be read to - to hear voices.” Peter’s voice sounded pain stricken but more in a purposefully over exaggerated way. “I think she read all four of those books at least four times to me.”

It was hard not to grin ear from ear at this picture, but she couldn’t help giving a dry comment. “No wonder you went insane.”

Peter shrugged and joined in the grinning. “I always said nobody had any ideas about the horrors I suffered - but at least I was spared her moving onto 50 Shades of Grey.”

Lydia flinched at the thought of that and she had only gotten as far as the first page.

“I wonder,” Peter continued. “Why would an intelligent girl like yourself know about Twilight? Isn’t that more the book for girls who never read before?”

Lydia had to admit he had a point, but it wasn’t like it was a big thing. She was a girl, she was supposed to read it. “Everyone talked about it and I wanted to know what it was about. Took me less than two hours for each book.”

“You give me back my faith in you,” he joked and then said. “I know you watch ‘The Notebook’ way too often but I’m aware of the real reason behind that.”

Sometimes Lydia hated the fact that Peter had been so far into her head. On the vague hope he hadn’t that much insight she asked. “What would that be?”

“You knew Jackson hated it and wanted to see how often you got him to sit through it with you. I do feel bad about ruining that for you - it’s such a delightfully cruel test of devotion,” Peter was clearly appreciating that part of it.

That gave her an idea. “Hmm, looks like a movie we could rent tonight.”

“We could but then I would consider us even,” Peter smirked.

At that point she noticed the sharp turn left and that they pulled into her driveway. “No, I think it’s good for at least two times.”

He stopped the car and after shutting down the motor he turned to her and still very amused he asked. “How about we stick to me helping you with your powers?”

Lydia nodded. “I think - I’ll go with that, too.”

With her mood somewhat improved she was taking the boarded up window relatively well. It was given her a slight chill but she got over it. Lydia realised she was glad that she now had the perfect excuse to move rooms. There was no way she ever sleep in this room again.

Lydia headed straight into the cellar with Peter, to fetch one of those oversized pieces of luggage, her mother used for her trips to Europe.

“Are you sure you’re really opposed to moving in?” Peter asked as he carried it upstairs for her.

Back in her room she switched on the light and looked around while Peter put the suitcase on her bed and opened it. Whomever the sheriff had sent to board up the room, they had brushed the broken pieces of her collection aside and cleaned up a bit, stapling the books to one side of the room and putting the shelves against the wall. As she stared at the mess, Peter laid a hand on her shoulder.

“We can take care of it later,” he promised her, his voice oddly comforting.

Lydia sighed. “I wanted to move back to my old room anyway.”

“Probably, a good idea,” Peter agreed.

He went towards the bathroom and looked at the broken mess of her cell phone.

“You see the cards?” Lydia wanted to know.

“Just the one with your data, not the SIM one,” he shrugged and rose. “But look for yourself if you don’t trust me.”

“If?” she asked and walked over kneeling in front of the broken pieces. No matter how many pieces she overturned the card was gone. Peter stood next to her pulling her up when she was done. “It’s really not there!” Lydia said frustrated as he handed her the memory card with all her numbers and saved songs and pictures.

“I told you.” He did sound slightly insulted.

“My old latin teacher always said: Trust is good, control is better,” Lydia wasn’t impressed. He knew very well she had no reason to trust him.

“Mr. Schillings?” Peter asked her and when he saw her surprise, he grinned. Lydia shouldn’t be surprised that going to the same school they ended up having the same teacher. “He was a miserable old cronie.”

“One day in class he got so worked up about a mistranslation by a student, that he got a heart attack,” Lydia told him as she walked over to her chest of drawer. “He finally retired that year.”

“I’m surprised that didn’t happen earlier, with his erratic heartbeat and the choleric tendencies.”

For a moment she considered asking Peter to give her space so she could pack her underwear. It felt silly after all that happened. Peter went through a pile of books. “Maybe take your school books along as well.”

“I don’t need them, I can get them before class starts, if i’m really still at your place,” she explained putting a stack of panties into the open suitcase.

“There aren’t for you,” Peter told her.

Looking at him puzzled she asked: “Trying to catch up on basic algebra?”

“No,” he smiled, “but they involve my evil masterplan to get my niece back to school.”

Lydia wasn’t sure if he was serious about what he said or if he just meant the masterplan part as a joke. It was hard to imagine what he hoped to accomplish by it. Who knew what Cora had been up to while she was gone. The last thing Beacon Hills could use was another werewolf in High School. “Really?”

As he picked up the relevant books and sat down next to the suitcase, he began telling her. “Cora will ask to join my pack, it’s pretense of course, for her finding out about what I’m up to. I’ll let her, provided she goes back to school.”

“Wait - you expect her to spy and you’re still letting her in?” Lydia asked surprised.

That seemed to unlike Peter: risking his safety so someone else could benefit. Cora could only profit from more education. Shaking her head she put the socks she had gathered next to her underwear and the books which Peter had put inside.

He smiled. “She can not give the location away, whatever else she finds out is nothing I feel I need to hide.” Peter took a deep breath and looked at her. “She’s family and I want her in my pack. Cora might come in under false pretense but in the end I think she’ll realise this is where she belongs.”

There was a sadness in his last words, that made Lydia think that despite everything she had learnt and him killing his other niece that he did miss his family and that he wanted to have what was left of it with him. If he got Cora, then Derek was probably not far behind.

“So you count on including more members into your pack that are already werewolves?” Lydia walked over to her closet and opened it. Looking back for a moment she added: “Instead of turning more people?”

“It’s not easy to include already turned wolves into the pack - but I do have a bond with Cora and Derek. They need an alpha and I doubt they follow Scott, since he’s so inexperienced and only listens when he wants to,” Peter said quite sure of himself.

Lydia focused on picking clothes but kept listening to him. It made sense what he said, at least to a degree when it came to Derek and Scott. They weren’t the best at working together, Derek had ended up trying to help Scott but his involvement came mostly through Jennifer getting him to the final conflict. Scott was doing his own thing and it had been Stiles who had thought about going to him for help, however unfruitful that had turned out.

“Although I do have at least one more person to turn - a promise I made.”

“I still can’t believe that someone would risk dying voluntarily,” she replied shaking her head.

Lydia went over the bed and began folding the dressed and shirts carefully with their coat hangers into the suitcase.

“The chances to successfully make it aren’t that bad,” Peter replied and tilted his head slightly. “But it’s only fair to point out the possibility of death.”

“On the off chance that you’re actually bothering to ask,” she reminded him, but secretly she was very curious about what he had to say. He kept thinking about Ethan and what he told her just a few days ago. If the twins were less stubborn Ethan might have the ideal person to ask. “Is there anything that makes it less likely to be successfully turned?”

“Apart from being a banshee?” he smirked at her, but became serious. “It’s a stressful time for the body, it would kill a person that was already mortally wounded. Otherwise it’s not a science. Some people who are perfectly healthy just die and others who have a serious illness make it. Personally, I think it also has to do with just how much a person wants it.”

“But Scott didn’t even knew what was happening to him?”

It occurred to her that picking Scott was probably the least planned out thing Peter had done and maybe it was also why he kept thinking twice about his actions now.

“Yes, he thought that he was bitten by a wolf - otherwise he probably would have fought the bite and who knows what would have happened then,” he leaned against the head of her bed, making himself comfortable. There was probably not much more to be gained from this discussion as Peter alone had just a hypothesis and hopefully wasn’t reckless enough to turn people just to get more data.

“It couldn’t just have been Scott that made you say that,” she pointed out.

He shook his head slightly. “No, I saw it before with people who didn’t make it and the one thing that seemed to unite them was what seemed the will to not be turned into what they thought was a monster.” Suddenly Peter smiled. “There are of course those who protest but secretly want to.”

Not even wanting to go there, Lydia walked back into her closet. She needed more comfortable clothing and she picked footwear for the apartment, for going out and another pair of boots just in case there was more going out into the woods. While she was in there, she heard Peter getting up again. As she finally went back to the suitcase she saw him looking at the box with her naughty birthday presents from Allison.

“Interesting,” he held up the handcuffs to her.

From the look on his face Lydia was convinced he wondered how she was going to react to him using them on her. It was the opposite of what Allison had given them to her and yet the sudden idea of Peter using them to tie her down and then explore her body with the same skill as back in that cabin was arousing and she was grateful for the stack of clothes she had between her and Peter’s gaze.

“If you’re done snooping through my birthday presents, please put everything where it was,” she told him upset at herself for her own thoughts.

That way her flushed cheeks appeared to come from anger and not arousal. As she put her clothes into the suitcase, Peter put the box away clearly not embarrassed, in fact he couldn’t shut up about it. “It’s nice to see your friends encouraging you.”

“They wouldn’t be my friends if they tried telling me with whom I can have sex,” Lydia said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“That is a good point,” he said.

The thought that she might change her mind was clearly not far from his. He’d probably welcomed that attitude then: either her friends supported her or they proved they weren’t friends by objecting to her choice. To him this had to be a win-win situation. Lydia wasn’t going to let her libido run wild with him and so tried to change the topic to something certain to put a damper onto it.

“If we do go to the cemetery,” she began, “you better not try and make me go near that thing because I will scream m- your head off.”

With that she headed back to the closet to pick up the shoes and boots she had selected.

“I’ve no intention to make you go near it, I just want to take a look for myself around the specific tomb,” Peter tells her, sounding a bit exhausted. When she headed back into the room, he told her more calmly: “It might not seem that way but I do not enjoy hurting you or seeing you distressed. It’s actually quite the opposite.”

“You could have fooled me,” Lydia rolls her eyes and turns from him. Maybe there were a few instances when someone else caused her distress, like Jackson dumping her, but nearly always when she had been really upset and seriously hurt, it had been Peter’s doing.

She can hear him sigh before replying. “That was never the intention, it was unavoidable and I actually feel sorry about that,” he tries to assure her. “I don’t enjoy hurting you at all,” Peter says and Lydia does believe him to a degree.

He might even be sorry but that doesn’t change the fact that he’d do it again in a heartbeat if he feels it is necessary to reach his goal. That is why she is expecting him to lure her to the cemetery only to see her reaction to the mausoleum. To learn more about what is going on there. It might be important and that is what makes her want to agree to going - even though she’s scared. Lydia wants him to stop lying. “But you’d do it again, without thinking twice if you thought it was necessary.”

“Yes, I most likely would,” Peter agrees to her surprise. He steps closer and his voice sounds serious: “In this case, dragging you to the mausoleum would accomplish nothing. You need to approach this at your own time, right now we’re already pretty pressed with teaching you how to sneak attack a Great Zombie master.”

Lydia shivered, spoken out their plan sounded so impossible, but it seemed Peter had confidence in her abilities. While she wasn’t looking forward to the cemetary, she was reasonably sure, he wouldn’t force near the crypt. I didn’t made sense for him to tell her all this and then do the opposite, trust was already lacking and there was no need to make him seem even less trustworthy.

“I’m still not sure, how I can possible control visions, it’s so different from the dreams and even there I feel like,” she stopped not really sure how she should put it. On the one hand she had managed to see the Zombie Master in all his hand- and headless gory. On the other hand, she had fumbled her way through this, reacting more to the scenes than actually gaining some control. “It’s like I can influence one one small part of the dream, but these visions, I have no control over anything.”

“You didn’t had much control over the dreams to begin with,” Peter sat down again. He leaned over to look at her directly while she was busy staring into the suit case. “Fact is, you were magnificent, picking up so fast on some of the basic tricks. I’m sure the Zombie Master didn’t expect you being such a formidable opponent.”

It really shouldn’t matter to her that Peter was always full of compliments but it did feel good. It gave her hope that she’d manage to solve the rest but it was also making her feel better about the whole banshee deal. Maybe all she went through wasn’t for nothing or just for Peter’s benefit, but for something good. If down the line she could save lives with her abilities, that would mean a lot to her.

Ever since she had started to help saving people, Boyd at the suicide motel, the parents of her friends, even just in diminished capacity had felt good. It seemed like something more important than winning a Field’s Medal. Who said she couldn’t do that as well? Still, despite the compliments she tried to asses her abilities realistically.

“Yeah, it just it felt as if it had the ability to do much worse,” she told Peter.

“Probably,” he agreed and leaned back. “These things like toying with people, I’m sure it had acted differently if he had thought you’d get that good that fast. I bet right now it’s worried out of it’s mind how fast you’re going to uncover his head and hands.”

That made sense, but it also made her worry about something else. “But this latest killing - it’s clearly moving faster because of what I did.”

“It’s goal is to subdue the entire town and by that I mean to kill every living thing in Beacon Hills,” Peter said firmly. “There’s no telling what it might do afterwards.”

“It will keep killing at a faster pace,” Lydia slammed the suitcase shut after she had stored her shoes safely inside. She looked at Peter whose worried expression was a rare sight.

“It might kill more people faster in a panicked reaction, it might have done that anyway - fact is it will keep on killing unless we stop it.”

Part of her wished she could stay as unmoved by the deaths as he was: her feeling bad about it did nothing to stop the deaths. Lydia looked around her room, picked up two other books, just in case she needed to clear her head of thoughts about this mess as her gaze fell on a picture of her and her mother. She packed it as well and finally zipped up.

“Okay, let’s go to the cemetery,” Lydia told Peter.


	26. Unforeseen Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignoring how Lydia feels about the cemetery and the mausoleum, Peter takes a closer look with some unintended consequences.
> 
> _Her certainty about it was reason why she wished Peter wasn’t actually touching the grim reaper. She wasn't sure what exactly he was running his fingers over, as all she saw was him stroking over the angels stony curls. Out of the blue he turned his head almost as if he had heard something and focused his attention to the mausoleum._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, proofed it myself and reworded so much, but I hope it's clearer now. If I'm lucky I get out the next chapter a lot faster! Still working on chapter 34, which is from Isaac's POV and so difficult. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter :D

Since it was midday the gates of the old South Lane cemetery were open. As Lydia and Peter stepped onto the main pathway, they saw a woman and a young man gawking at the crime scene; Lydia believed that the woman was a reporter for the local newspaper. They were a bit far way, but there was something about her that even in the distance seemed familiar.

Lydia made it a point to switch sides, so that Peter was blocking her almost completely from the potential reporter’s sight. Since she really didn’t want to be interviewed again by this particular harpy, Lydia didn’t even protested, when Peter wrapped his arm around her. If they acted like they were here for a visit to an old family tomb or graveside, they probably wouldn’t get noticed.

Reminded of that old animation movie, her mother loved so much “The last unicorn”, Lydia had to think of one particular conversation, where the magician was warned by the unicorn not to run away from the harpy, as it would attract its attention. It was sort of the same here, a casual walk away would work best.

If Lydia was right with her suspicion this was was the same reporter who had tried to get an interview with her at the hospital - in the ICU - after Peter had attacked her after the formal. Eventually getting to her when the Kanima killings started, asking for Lydia’s insight on the matter and also digging for dirt on Allison. Apart from having no idea what was going on at the time, she had brushed that woman off rather well, using the same line she had fed Peter, when he had asked why she was seeing Mrs Morrell. As a result, she had been pretty much mentioned - they couldn’t print her name - as the lunatic girl who ran around naked in the woods and had serious issues. Everyone knew who was meant.

The way lead them away from the crime scene, Lydia showing Peter the general direction to the moss covered crypt with the creepy praying angels statues and the fake doors. The place looked and felt horrible enough from the distance, the feeling would only get worse if she got close enough to see the statues change to the grim reaper ones. It was still fresh around this time of the year but the chill she felt come from this place was closer to that of a particular cold winter night.

“That’s it,” Lydia pointed toward the building, “it’s close enough for my taste.”

Peter hardly seemed to hear what she had said. While he didn’t let go, he also didn’t move forward. He stared at the building and the area surrounding it. Lydia pulled her arm back, so she could wrap both of them around her, feeling goosebumps appear on her arms.

“Interesting,” Peter said, finally letting go.

Lydia turned her head to look at him and instantly noticed how the hair on his neck was standing up. There was just the hint of tension which Peter obviously tried to hide. He was good at it. Always pretending not to care had trained him but she realised there was something about this place that upset even him. That was almost more terrifying than anything else.

“What is it?” she wanted to know.

“Right now, you see some white marble angel statues standing in front of it, do you?” he asked back.

Nodding and fearing once more that he might test what she would see if she stepped closer. “Yes, I see them, when I get closer, they turn into ..”

Lydia was then interrupted by Peter who finished the sentence. “... grim reapers who seem to swing their scythes at you?” As if that wasn't scary enough, he went on to describe them in details she had never shared with anyone. How their mouth stood open, how the skeletal parts were a dark grey tone but there were spatters on them that seemed to be real dried blood.

“Oh my god,” she realised what was going on. “You don’t see the angels, you see what I see when …” Stopping herself, she took a deep breath, there was no need to panic, Lydia told herself. “What does it mean?” she asked, what seemed to be the most important question.

“I’m sure if we had a trained witch to ask, she had something to say about the phenomenon,” Peter replied and took a step forward.

Instinctively, Lydia reached forward and grabbed his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a closer look, that’s what I came here, to do,” he said with a smile on his face. “I really appreciate the concern but obviously I can take of myself.”

Feeling silly, she let go and took a step back. “I don’t like this place,” Lydia admitted not willing to hide just how much it crept her our. “I know you don’t, either.”

They heard a car start and Lydia assumed it was the reporter and whomever she had brought with her. Peter put a hand on her shoulder. “This won’t take long.”

With apprehension she watched as Peter went up to the stairs leading up to the mausoleum, stopping to look at the grim reapers. Lydia was glad she saw them just as angels - they were creepy enough in that phase. She wondered if the druids had any idea what was up with this strange place. It wasn’t like she or anyone else had asked Deaton about it as far as she knew, mostly because getting useful information out of him was like trying to squeeze blood out of a stone.

Lydia shivered as she saw Peter leaning closer to examine one of the statues. Her instincts were telling her this place should be left alone. There had to be a reason, why the darker version of this place had no flora growing near or on it. Neither was she hearing any animal noises and she began wondered, the angel version looked so harmless to observers eyes: was maybe that the real illusion?

There was no way of confirming the suspicion. Whenever her powers were involved, there was never any reliable data available to form a reasonable opinion on. All she had was a gut feeling and those instincts told her this haunted, lifeless display of death was actually there. If witches, werewolves and banshees were real, certainly a magical illusion to make a supernatural sight seem harmless to normal people wasn’t that far out.

Her certainty about it was reason why she wished Peter wasn’t actually touching the grim reaper. She wasn't sure what exactly he was running his fingers over, as all she saw was him stroking over the angels stony curls. Out of the blue he turned his head almost as if he had heard something and focused his attention to the mausoleum.

“Just hurry,” Lydia demanded, rubbing her arms as she was feeling colder by the minute.

Peter approached the fake doors, looking at them without giving any sign he was listening to her. Lydia gasped as he reached out to touch them but stopped an inch or two in front of the door relief. Instead he leaned closer and listened to whatever he might have drawn his attention. Lydia heard nothing apart from her own breath. Much to her distress, it was forming a visible mist in front of her mouth. As she looked she saw the same thing happening to Peter.

Peter wasn’t done yet, his fingers went over the carving of the door panels, tracing the fake opening, while leaning against one half of the door. Lydia wondered what he was looking for, it almost seemed as if he was trying to find a hidden mechanism or something. She took a step closer, before deciding to try shouting again.

“Will you stop doing that?”

There was still no answer from Peter, he simply slided down a bit further and explored more of the lower area of the door. It was as if he wasn’t even noticing that she was there. Lydia felt very vulnerable and alone, as she kept watching Peter, the oddness of his behaviour became more and more obvious.

“Peter!” she shouted more loudly.

He kept focusing on the door, but his movements became slower: they were almost trance like. It seemed like he really wanted to get this door open, but not because he wanted to, Lydia was certain something or someone was compelling him to do this. She wondered if she had looked and moved like this when Peter had made her do these weird things, like walking barefoot through the forest to the old Hale house.

If the circumstances weren’t so spooky Lydia might have taken it as poetic justice but this was more than a little bit worrisome. This place was evil and she had no idea what was going to happen, did something wanted to get out or was this about something else? Who or whatever was interred in that crypt should better not be let out. Lydia knew she needed to do something

“Damn you!” She yelled - still no answer - and walked towards the mausoleum that changed in front of her very eyes.

Lydia wasn’t sure what she could do to shake Peter out of this, as she herself had always been alone in those situation, but shaking seemed like a good bet. Unless this place got her screaming again, but she couldn’t force it. The first time something had made her approach the crypt, and she had felt the incredible cold, seen the blood had scared her into screaming, but there was no guarantee it would happen again.

Her determination was challenged with each step. The temperature was dropping lower the closer she came, Lydia couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this cold. When came close enough to pass between the two statues, she heard a weird noise. Shivering, he hair standing up, Lydia turned and saw the head of the statue she was staring at moving towards her and it’s empty eyes filled with blood.

There was a slow but noticeable change in the position of the scythe. As Lydia forced herself to step forward, she saw a threatening movement. One heartbeat later she felt the scream burst out of her and ring through her entire body which was numb from the cold. Lydia saw Peter moving his hands away from the door to cover his ears but then she blanked out.

When Lydia came to her senses again she was back in the Jaguar, the heat cranked up to the maximum. Despite that she was still feeling a bit cold and twice as exhausted. Recalling what happened she was also very angry. “I’ve told you not to go near that thing!”

“Yes, you did,” Peter admitted sounding far less composed than she had ever experienced, with the exception of the encounter with Deucalion two nights ago. Peter was shivering noticeably and when she looked closer she saw dried blood on his collar and shoulder. Its source quickly discovered, by the noticeable smears of red blood still clinging to his ear.

She hadn’t been that close to him but her scream must have been more intense, the only time she had blacked out before had been during the ritual. This being the far more unpleasant event. Peter was clearly not up for much talking and Lydia was sure it would not help, but she had to say it anyway.

“It doesn’t feel good, does it?”

“No.” Peter agreed with dangerously low tone.

With subdued aggression he put the car into a higher gear. Lydia noticed the odd way he was sticking out his fingers instead of closing them around the shift lever. Taking a closer look, she saw that the fingers were covered with blisters. Whatever was up with that Mausoleum, it had generated so much cold, that Peter has suffered frostbite and was still affected by the unnatural cold.

Lydia felt at least her skin warm up again, even though her feet in the boots were still feeling a bit damp. She remembered a skiing trip where she had to walk two hours through deep snow and her feet had been similarly cold. But this was California and spring, even more so, it had affected Peter more and it had only happened with him. None of that had happened when Stiles and Scott had examined the doors or the statues.

It was simple curiosity that made her reach out and lay her hand on Peter’s arm. Even through the clothes she could feel how cold he was. He stared at the hand in a disapproving way that she immediately drew it back.

“What happened?” Lydia asked, hoping she wouldn’t have drag every single word out of him.

“Apart from me nearly freezing to death?” He shrugged, but it was an angry, tense move: Peter wasn’t successfully faking his usual nonchalant attitude. “At least this was something I haven’t tried yet.”

She hadn’t expected the incident being this serious, it was no wonder he was being curt with her. Up until now he had every reason to feel safe with his regained alpha powers and just now, one misstep had nearly cost him his life again. It scared her to think what might grow out of this experience. There was something hurt about him and Lydia grew more aware of.

“Maybe we should order in and go shopping tomorrow?” she suggested. “I don’t know about you but I could use a hot shower.”

Peter said nothing, she could see that part of her statement bothered him and wondered if this was the point where he let go of all pretense of being nice.

“Probably for the best,” he agreed to her surprise. She watched him take a turn to the main road leading downtown from the beltway and hoped she was right and they would be back at the apartment soon.

After a few minutes, Peter spoke to her on his own. “When the witches declared Beacon Hills off limits, they’ve made it seem as if I was the reason but it always seemed not right. Even they couldn’t be that petty - now I think I’ve found the real reason.”

She hadn’t thought about it more, but when he brought up the witches, she realised what had been different about Peter and Scott or Stiles at that mausoleum. Peter was part witch, while not trained, it was obvious he had some witch powers in his blood.

“You think that they knew about the mausoleum?” Lydia asked and then shook her head. “But if they knew that witches were affected why wouldn’t they warn you?”

The look he gave her told everything, Peter clearly believed that the witches didn’t care. “I remember them speaking about someone freezing to death, which was very strange since it happened to be be late April then.” He scoffed, taking a deep breath. “Didn’t think much of it at the time. It has to be the witch blood, since you didn’t notice any effect on the other werewolves?”

“No, I didn’t!” Lydia confirmed. “It’s so reckless not to warn you.”

“Maybe they told Talia to keep me away - but you know her approach to keeping us away from things,” Peter stated with a bitter tone.

Lydia sighed, she still couldn’t believe that Talia had stolen memories from him and Derek. That was really not Lydia’s idea of problem solving. With mind rape being such a natural thing to do in his family, it was no surprise that Peter wasn’t thinking much about it. It was like in those headhunter tribes, were bringing home a head was just good manners. A family living deep in the woods having problems with their social skills was probably not that surprising, either.

“Can’t you ask the witches about what’s the deal with the mausoleum?” she asked curiously. “You’re in contact with at least one of them.”

“I could ask her, but I think she’s been fed the same story as everyone else, that Beacon Hills isn’t big enough for a pack and a coven.”

There was a lot of resentment in that statement and Lydia wondered if the added dose of bitterness came from wondering if his witch contact, which had to be the sister of his old friend, had also kept him in the dark.

“The real question is though, whether this is connected to any of the murders, isn’t it?” Lydia tried to steer the conversation away from those thoughts. “The mausoleum is old, it could’ve been there for years. With something bad inside.”

“Maybe, that would be good, as staying away from it should solve that problem.”

His tone was still worrying Lydia but at the same time, it was also confirmation that Peter’s nonchalant attitude was an act. Maybe it wasn’t always but Lydia was pretty much sure it was more often than not. It made sense to her: Peter not wanting anyone to see what he was really feeling or thinking. She was just hoping to get better at seeing through him.

“I’m sure we find out more, once Stiles has gone ahead with his research,” Lydia kept going. “I wonder which statues actually were put there and which set is the false one.”

Another long pause and eventually Peter asked her, a lot calmer. “What do you feel?”

He had phrased the question in a similar situation like that before, inquiring not what she thought but felt. Peter knew that it was something she had a hard time with and it helped her put more trust in her feelings, at least in these supernatural situation, where it was all she could count on.

Thinking back, the angel version wasn’t meant to scare, seeing only the weeping statues she almost feel nothing the first time. The grim reapers were scary, they seemed to do their best to scare her off. It seemed purposefully. Peter was right, she didn’t find answers in thinking about it, but her gut feeling was very certain. “I’m sure the angels are false, they feel wrong - somewhat empty.”

Lydia took a deep breath, she just didn’t had the proper language to describe what she was feeling. It was all so new and alien to her. There was more that bothered her.

“What I don’t get is, so if the angels are false, why is it that the reapers try to scare me away?” She wondered out loud. “Something drew you closer and we both can see the reapers, so it can’t be just that, can it?”

“That’s true,” Peter admitted.

Apart from confirming that she had been right about something luring him closer to the building, he didn’t reveal anything. For once it seemed Peter was just as clueless as the rest of them. Lydia didn’t liked it much, but she tried to find out what he discovered. “Did you find out anything about the fake door? Or don’t you remember anything about it?”

They had almost reached the apartment and it seemed as if Peter wasn’t ready to say anything on the subject, when after a long pause he eventually answered. “Oddly enough, I do remember. It’s fine craftsmanship - it’s very detailed almost like wood turned to stone,” then he looked at her as if he had a revelation and Lydia knew what it was.

“Maybe that’s what it is!” She said and Peter gave a confirming nod. Lydia smiled, because she was theorizing about completely unscientific magic stuff. “What if it’s carved into the stone but someone used magic to seal it off? Is it possible to turn wooden doors into stone?” Lydia smiled still not believing she was theorizing about magically closed mausoleum doors.

“It would be possible for a witch,” Peter agreed, seeming to thaw off in more than the physical sense. “It would make sense if they wanted not only a physical barrier but also a magic one.”

“So - a witch could probably reverse that and re-open the door,” she continued her line of thought.

“Therefore the witches who sealed it off would make sure no other witch can safely go near the door,” he finished for her. “It’s a possibility.”

“It’s of course just based on a feeling,” Lydia added, but she had some trust in her theory. Even though she had no clue how to test it, at least not without another witch. A witch might not survive this as well as a werewolf who could regenerate. Even Peter almost died, if she hadn’t interfered.

About that time, they reached Peter’s apartment building and Jaguar was parked in the underground garage. Once turned off the engine, he looked at her and said with a rather serious tone: “You need to learn to trust those feelings.”

Lydia gasped as she saw that his fingers weren’t the only body part that had gotten frostbite: there were blisters all over the left side of Peter’s face and ear. He turned away from her and leaned back into his seat. “Maybe I should, too.”

It was probably as close to an admittance from him that he had been wrong as she would ever get. Lydia wasn’t really feeling like gloating, that was only funny when nobody was getting seriously hurt.

“How long will it take to heal?” she wondered out loud.

“It shouldn’t take long after all,” he began, but groaned as he opened the door. Sighing angrily he pushed open the door, and reached for the key but stopped. Looking at it, he turned to her. “Would you mind getting the key?”

Clearly, until he had healed his fine motoric was a bit off. Lydia pulled out the key and left the car. She wondered just how bad the burns on his other hand was. Seeing the way he moved it was obvious he was in serious pain. Once again, she probably should enjoy it, as he deserved it but felt exactly the opposite way.

“The trunk,” he pointed out and Lydia opened it

With another groan, he took out her suitcase and Lydia saw that the other hand wasn’t as badly burned but it still had a few blisters that made moving the index finger problematic. He obviously had no intention to admit how bad it was. Peter took advantage of the fact that the suitcase was rollable holding onto it with the good fingers on this left hand.

While she figured she might be able to do all the rolling herself, Lydia wasn’t going to argue with him. If he wanted to play it tough, she wasn’t going to stop him. Locking up the care, she had fallen a bit back and walking up behind him, she saw that the blisters were not just on his face. The neck was also showing signs of frostbite and she wondered if some had gotten through the clothing as well.

Once in the elevator, Lydia couldn’t help herself and placed the palm of her hand on his right arm. She had expected it to be cool but she hadn’t expected it to still be that cold. It was as if the heating in the car had done only a bare minimum. It gave an entirely new meaning to the expression chilled to the bone.

“Well, I guess my hot shower can wait,” she said not removing her hand.

It was a compromise. Lydia wanted to press herself against him and share her body heat. Yet, in the back of her mind there was an unwillingness for a number of reasons.

“I doubt a shower is going to help much,” Peter said and turned to her, moving his arm away from her hand in the process. With a smirk he added. “Unless you’d jump in as well.”

This time it was obvious he was joking. It wasn't just his tone, which she was being able to read much better, it was his body language. While he certainly didn’t mind sharing his body heat with her, it had to be on his terms. Even now this basic act of kindness from her was rejected, blocked off with a joke, she actually thought about taking serious, just to see how he’d react to that. Not sure if he wouldn’t hold her to it, she rather not risk it for getting a rise out of him.

As Peter left the elevator, rolling the suitcase behind him, she had to think about the other times when she had made contact of her own volition. It had irritated him a bit before, almost as if he had no idea what to make of it. Maybe that played into it. It could also be that he just didn’t want to seem weak or that intimacy was something he only knew has a tool of manipulation. The thought made Lydia sad, but she also knew she wasn’t going to change him. That didn’t mean she couldn’t try to understand him better.

Rushing ahead, she unlocked the apartment door and closed it behind Peter and her suitcase. Seeing him park the suitcase against the nearest wall to look at his left hand, she made a decision: she was going to help him, whether he’d liked it or not.

Her friends thought Peter deserved all the punishment in the world, but it occurred to Lydia that Peter had gotten already plenty of that. Maybe he had more coming, but Lydia had to face that she felt worse seeing him in pain and not vindicated. She might as well accept that she got nothing from revenge, but much more if she treated him as an ally.

“Well, I’m going to let in a hot bath, but I suggest you take a shower first,” Lydia said as she strode towards the the bathroom. Looking behind her as she opened the door, she saw his confused look and added. “To get used to heat slowly.”

She was sure it wasn't the suggestion to shower that made him wonder but rather why she was concerned or - from his point of view - acting as if she was. Lydia enjoyed the thought of that, after all she should be mad as hell. Peter once more managed to get her to do something she hadn’t wanted to do: getting closer to the mausoleum.

At first she had felt angry, when she thought about this lasted experience, she didn’t felt upset about it at all. If anything, she felt bolder. The place seemed less scary. It had the power to freeze people, but it couldn’t do that to her, all it was able to do was scare her. Lydia refused to be scared that easily anymore. She had faced too many threats that were actually able to harm her, she wasn’t going to let a building freak her out.

Lydia felt a lot bolder. While Peter reminded her of a wounded animal - ready to lash out at anyone - she had no intention to let it deter her. She was doing what she had done so often in the past: taking charge of the situation. Before the whole werewolf business had ruined her social life, she had done that often. Not when it mattered - as there weren’t really all that many incidences of equal importance in her mundane highschool life - but she was good at it. Besides she was curious about whether Peter would fight her attempts to help him warm up.

Wasting no time, she walked into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. There was no further reaction from Peter. Lydia just tested the stream and when it was heated up enough, she dialed the drain shut and watched the water slowly fill the tub. Steam was spreading through the room and made her think of something else, she would need to turn on the central heating. She thought she had seen the control panel for it. At that point, she heard Peter walk into the bedroom.

Lydia joined him and saw how he was placing the suitcase near the wardrobe where she had put her other clothes. “If necessary I can create more space,” he told her.

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Lydia replied and went straight back to business. “While you take a bath, I’m going to call Stiles and order take-out. Do you have any specific wishes? I have the strangest craving for spinach pie.”

There was something about his baffled look that she loved, as if he still couldn’t comprehend what she was up to. “Why would you want to call Stiles?” he eventually said. With a scoff he added. “Thinking about giving him the address to lead him here?”

Lydia took a few steps closer. “I wanted to ask him to also look into instances where people froze to death on the cemetery, while he’s researching the mausoleum. Also, he should know that someone took my SIM card, we wouldn’t anyone sent him or others to a shady meeting place.”

Peter looked at her intently, probably listening to her heartbeat trying to figure out if she was lying or not. “There’s a cell phone on the coffee table,” he told her. “2303.”

Even though he had trusted her with the phone and the pin, Lydia could feel the distance Peter put between them. She was having none of that, he had dragged her into his life and while she was still not too happy about it, she also had accepted it as matter of fact. For now they were stuck together and he wasn't shutting her out.

Determined she stepped forward and took his wrist, to look at the burns on his right hand. The fingers were particularly bad where he had run them over the door. It did seem to get better even though the cold clung to Peter, contact with his bare skin was making her aware of just how cold he was. It was a wonder his heart didn’t stop from the ice cold blood that pumped through it.

Curiously, she put her free hand over his chest, it was feeling a bit warmer than the rest of his body. There was a slight tremble in his otherwise stiff posture. The next move came without Lydia really thinking about it: leaning closer and sliding her arm around him. The cold that came from him made her shiver a bit but she didn’t step away and instead placed his arm around her.

Then he responded by pressing her tighter against him, while avoiding to use his hands.

"I just want to make this clear, you do not deserve this!" Lydia reminded him.

“I know,” Peter replied with an almost heart-breaking self-awareness, that was until his tone changed and he added. “I’m glad though that you’ve got a preference for guys that don’t deserve you.”

More symbolical than with any force she punched him the side and was surprised to hear a noticeable grown. She had forgotten that he had been pressed with this side against the stone door. She almost instinctively stepped back, upset at herself for feeling guilty about it. He brought it on himself, she told herself.

“Don’t be cold, Lydia.” Peter told her, downplaying the pain. “I already froze once today.”

“I better turn on the heat, then we’ve got to get you out of those clothes!” she said firmly.

He just smirked at her, making her roll her eyes, but also smile. Who would have thought, she’d ever say that to Peter Hale?

It took her less than two minutes to find the central heat panel and to crank it up. As she got back, she found that Peter tried to peel off his sweater which stuck to the frostbite wounds at his side. While he had been able to move the gear with his palm, he had problems grasping the hem of his shirt. Lydia wondered how he even had managed to turn on the car.

She walked past him and sat down on the bed, where she removed her boots and then stepped on the bed to be tall enough to help him with the undressing part. He understood instantly what Lydia was up to and without wasting further words, he positioned himself so she was able to remove the sweater.

It wasn’t easy, at first she lifted up the sweater, which caused more load, painful groans from Peter. Lydia hated to imagine how awful this must hurt, given that his side was looking awfully waxy. Some parts were reddish and a small area was even black, where she had ripped off the shirt. Next she freed the arm that was mostly injured and then went onto the other arm, which where the skin had become one with the sweater in some parts.

“If you thinks it looks bad …” Peter began but stopped when he say the look on her face.

“Shouldn’t it start to heal?” she asked with a hint of nausea in her voice.

“It already has, but there might be something to you can do to speed it up. A spirited punch into my left side, where the sweater was previously attached, might do the trick,” he explained calmly.

“You’re seriously asking me to punch you in the side? Where your injuries are the worst?” Lydia asked to clarify, strongly hoping he wasn't expecting her to do that. It wasn’t just the thought of causing pain, the smell and the putrid look of the wound was really disgusting.

Unfortunately, his expression made it clear that he was serious. “Usually, breaking an arm is pretty efficient but I don’t think you’re strong enough to do it. If you hit hard enough, it should do the same: cause pain and further injury.”

“I can’t,” Lydia said taking a deep breath.

“Well, I’d point out you managed to whack me with a bottle just fine - but given how that turned out ..” He shrugged and looked at her encouragingly.

“I better check the water.”

It was more a flight forward but she needed to make sure the water wasn't too hot or ran over the edge anyway. There was the fact that she still needed to further undress him. At least she was sure that with the injuries and the amount of pain Peter was in inappropriate comments was all she needed to fear from him.

The tub was already filled a good deal and so she picked up the thermometer and saw that the temperature was a bit above 100 degrees. Good for warming up people - however with the injuries she wasn’t sure if that was such a good idea. Peter would certainly protest if that worked against werewolf healing powers.

She decided to switch off the water and went back. Peter had slipped out of his shoes and socks in the meantime. More precisely, he was just in the progress of stepping on the edge of the last sock to strip the foot out of it. Lydia took a deep breath and decided not to fret but get on with it.

Peter had a way of making her pause just by looking at her in a certain way, and in that moment when she looked up and he leaned down, as if he was going to kiss her. Lydia understood why he moved so slowly, he tried to get Lydia to hit him after all. She looked down instead.

“Can’t you just ask like a normal person?” she scolded him.

“I did,” he shrugged and sighed. “It’s okay, it will heal on his own eventually. Benefit of being an alpha.”

“Why does it always have to be so violent?” Lydia complained. Everything that had to do with werewolves began and ended with violence. In moments like this, it seemed like that this was all they knew.

“I’m not seeking it out, it just unavoidable sometimes,” he told her, his tone apologetic.

“Okay,” she said with a heavy voice, “if it’ll help - I’ll do it.”

He turned and bared the injured side to her, which looked even worse in a direct line of sight. As she raised her arm, Peter even gave her hints as to how to strike best. Lydia took it in and switched over to auto-pilot. Like in gym class, where she could always just listen to the instructions and then get it done reasonably well on first try.

It felt awful when her fist hit the cold, blistered and injured spot: some oozy liquid and blood leaked out and Peter curled up and groaned in pain. He got himself under control fast and just as she thought she might need to sit down, she could observe the wound shifting and constricting. It was beginning to close.

Lydia sighed in relief as she watched Peter adapting to the new sensation of the healing process. It didn’t appear to feel that pleasantly even though it would leave him without a scar when it was done. “You should probably get under the shower and warm up,” she pointed out.

“I know, just waiting for your helping hands,” the smirk on his face was deserving of a second punch, but Lydia was too nice for that. It didn’t help that anger wasn't the only emotion his comment kindled. When her fingers touched his waistband, she felt her cheeks flush and without looking up she could feel his eyes on her.

It wasn't the first time she had unbuttoned a guys pants but usually she had been in a hurry and right now she felt if she hurried, her fingers might fail her. She wasn't really nervous but her thoughts were drifting back to feeling him pressed naked against her. Lydia knew she shouldn’t like sleeping close to him but Peter had been right: she did.

Holding back a sigh, she just went ahead, before she overthought this. It was bad enough how loud the sound of the zipper being pulled down in the total silence between them was. Avoiding to look she hooked her fingers into both waistbands and pulled jeans and pants down till both were past the knees.

Peter took advantage of her squatting down and put his less injured hand on her shoulder to keep his balance, as he stepped out of his clothes. She looked up at him. “Well, if I might make a suggestion, before you keep that smirk up, you’d better go and get warmed up,” she said, holding up her fingers to show a tiny little gap between them. “It’s that cold.”

Laughter was the reaction her remark earned her and Lydia began to like that about Peter: no bruised ego lashing out at her, which was after Jackson and Aiden, such a welcome change. Not that Lydia considered him a successor to either but it was making her feel safer around him.

“Yes, I better get myself back in shape, so the lady has something to feast her eyes upon,” he replied and oddly enough, she smiled despite shaking her head.

“You’re unbelievable,” Lydia groaned between amusement and incredulity.

“Yes, I recall you mention something about it,” he said and disappeared quickly into the bathroom. His intonation left no doubt what he was referring to.

It was time to take care of other matters while Peter turned on the shower. She was almost out of the bedroom when she remembered she had no idea what he wanted to eat. Going back she peeked into the bathroom that was filled with a hint of steam asking him what he felt like eating. Peter had remembered that she had mentioned something Greek and went along with that, telling her to look for the bookmark in his macbook.

Since Lydia was hungry and Peter could always warm up anything that arrived too early, she ordered right away. The cell phone was where he said it was and the man taking the order had his address in his customer list, but under the address and not his name. Spell protection or not, Peter was careful. Ordering her Spanakopita and the Moussaka for him, she decided to take a minute to relax before she called Stiles.

“Tell me you don't have Lydia tied to a chair in a basement somewhere, dude. Tell me you're injecting some originality into this plot? Besides, Lydia doesn’t seem like a girl who's going to forgive rope burns that weren't gotten in a way that's at least a thousand times more fun.”

Lydia felt taken back by this onslaught of weird imagery.

“You might think you’re the anti-hero swooping into save the day but, really, you're just a pervy old man. Hey, did you know that they have GPS that can track your phone's location in seconds? Really, in less than the time I've been talking,” Stiles ranted on, completely set on auto-pilot.

Lydia just had to laugh, it was hard to believe that Stiles actually thought this was going to work. There was no way that Peter would fall for this, even if the spell wasn’t protecting the flat to begin with.

“Lydia, is that you? Wow, really? You have the phone and you just now tell me you’re on the line? Seriously, I’m losing my mind here with worry about you. God knows what this creep is doing to you! Did you get away? Can you run? Or has he tied you down and is tickling you with a feather?” he began to ask and Lydia had a hard time interrupting him.

“No and no and no,” she said loudly, finally shutting him up. “You think entirely too much about me and ropes, Stiles.”

“Where are you?” he wanted to know, sounding upset but also a bit angry. “Why did you scream earlier? When Scott heard it, I had - had scenarios in mind that were a lot less pleasant than the rope stuff.”

“Nothing that bad actually. We went to look at the mausoleum, the one you’re doing research on,” she told him with a sigh.

“You didn’t scream that way, when you were there with us!” Stiles pointed out. “He did something didn’t he?”

Lydia rolled her eyes, she really needed to set him straight before all those ideas about what Peter was doing her drove him out of his mind. “It was a more aggressive vision,” she said omitting the reason why she had it, “either way, I’m fine. I thought I call and let you know that Peter remembered something in connection with that place. Something about someone who froze to death in April.”

Dead air hung between them for the space of a heartbeat. When Stiles spoke again, his voice was eerily calm. “Sure. Of course. That would be the only reason to call, to pass along information. Right, sure. Why else would you want to let anyone know that you weren't being ritualistically tortured? Thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule, Lyds."

If Stiles meant to guilt trip her, it wasn’t working, she was livid. She had told them already that she wanted to see this through. Even if it meant being more closely involved with Peter than she wanted. Anger made it hard for her bring forward a decent argument. Taking a cue out of Stiles’ book of ranting she went on a tangent of her own.

“This attitude of yours, is exactly the reason why I’m here - because you can’t get it through your heads that I need Peter’s help - he’s not harming me and he found out more than all of you together in the past weeks,” she pointed out.

Lydia was really angry, because if they weren’t all so stubborn, they could just convene together. Then they could see first hand that nothing shady was going on. As it was, especially with today’s events, maybe it was better they had been alone. Her friends probably would’ve looked strange about seeing what she did in the bedroom or worse used this to attack.

“What’s he found out?” Stiles asked mockingly. In the background she heard something fall to the ground before he went on. “New ways to make you scream?”

“No, we found out who did these killings, the ones that look like some animal hybrids did them,” she said as calmly as she could, “Yoon’s probably on her way to meet with Deaton and point out how to stop the creatures and what to do about it.”

“Yeah, why aren’t you coming along? Why isn’t he?” he wanted to know and judging by his tone Stiles thought it was the ultimate argument against something being wrong.

“Maybe because you’re not listening to him or me?” Lydia told him, “Look, my priority is to put an end to these killings, but honestly I do need his help for that. I don’t expect you to like this, I don’t like it - but I’ve accepted it.”

“That’s crazy, Lydia! Did you forget what he did to you?”

“I think we’ve been over that.” Lydia rolled her eyes. She could point out again and again that they had no problem working together with Peter before. It had not deterred anyone that he put her through weeks of hell where she thought she was losing her mind. The sex ritual was nothing compared to that but they did not care about her opinion. It was outrage that Peter has taken what Stiles had wanted all these years. One thing she was really certain about, not being listened to really set her off more than anything and maybe because of that her next comment went past snarky and straight below the belt. “I just thought maybe you want to help cleaning up the mess you’ve made.”

"Wow, you don't have the voice for turning tables, Lyds, and I guarantee you I'd stop repeating this record if you'd listen to it once all the way through,” Stiles replied, hitting the entirely wrong nerve with her.

“Hearing the many ways in which you totally disregard my opinion and my wishes, won’t sway me. It just makes me realise that I’m probably better off being with the one person who does listen to what I’ve got to say,” she was about to hang up when she remembered something. “Since you’re not listening anyway I probably won’t need to warn you that someone stole my SIM card from the broken phone.”

Right afterwards, she hung up and put the phone down. It rang a minute later, the number popping up in the display belonging to Stiles. Lydia waited a bit, picked up the phone but just stared at the display. Once he had stopped calling, she began sending a text. I’m going to work with Peter, learn to deal with it, until then we’ve got nothing to talk about.

That being sent off, she shut down the cell phone and laid back on the couch. This was exhausting, the problem was it wasn't getting her mad at Peter. She was mad at Stiles for not listening to her. How much clearer could she make herself? Maybe Yoon was right and they needed to hear this face to face from her in a situation where she could go with them.

Lydia had the feeling that Stiles would never talk to her again if he found out how she had spend the last nights and how she was planning to spend the next. It did not seem fair either, Peter had done so much worse to her than disregarding her opinion, he practically had taken her over and made her do things against her will. Lately, he’d drugged and used for his kinky sex ritual.

The thing was, Stiles said they were friends and Lydia just expected better from her friends. She wasn't staying with Peter for the fun of arguing with him. She wanted to stop more people getting killed. That being around Peter wasn't completely terrible and even had it’s moments that should not be something to hold against her. Lydia felt Stiles would do that, not to mention she hated being treated like a victim for all the wrong reasons.

In a way being here with Peter was doing her good, it was the chance to come to terms with everything that had happened. With each hour she felt more optimistic about making it through all of this. She was becoming stronger because she was growing less afraid of what Peter might be able to do to her.

Her dream abilities were clearly stronger than Peter’s. From what Yoon had said, even if Peter died again, he could never take her over like that again. Lydia was also getting a sense that he wasn't really out to harm her. Whatever he wanted it seemed that he needed her to agree to help, if he crossed over a line, Peter knew he wouldn’t get that from her.

They might even get along on strictly ally basis. It wasn't like she was opposed to helping out if whatever goals he had weren’t harming anyone and Peter could teach her a lot. At this point, being close to him was mainly awful for all the ideas his presence put into her mind that she really shouldn't be having.


	27. Haunt your dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Peter still being affected by the spell dream training seems to be delayed again, leaving Lydia to find something to occupy her mind with on this evening away from her friends.
> 
> _"Don’t worry, I’m back to full fighting strength and the aftereffects of that spell trap are going quickly,” he said in a dismissive tone._   
> _It was so typical, guys always needed to play it tough and strong. Lydia saw through it and given the right moment she planned on reminding him of it. This was not it. Besides she had figured out that he thrived on adversary. Peter seemed to expect it and that was all the more reason to pursue a different tactic._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again not beta read, proofed as well as I could with the stupid weather giving me almost constant headaches.

Lydia was still angry at Stiles minutes after she had ended the call, but hearing the soft noise of water running in the bathroom, she decided to take a look at what Peter was doing. He might be the big bad wolf and should be doing alright but if not Lydia wanted to know. At the door to the bathroom, she stopped and asked into the steamed up room. “Getting warmer?”

“The hot water helps,” he told her after a very relaxed sounding sigh. “I know someone who could heat me up even faster.”

“Yep, you’re doing okay,” she replied and went into the bedroom to unpack.

The suitcase was too heavy for her to get onto the bed without effort so she just opened it there, flung the wardrobe open and began filling it. It was just a matter of straightening everything out before hanging it up. In the middle of it, she found the pink slippers she had brought along and slipped into them. Admits the shirts, skirts and dresses were also two jeans which were neatly folded and found their place into the wardrobe as well. She was still busy sorting when Peter said something to her.

Being so occupied, she hadn’t caught what he said and pulled the door slightly more ajar. “What?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell Stiles every little detail if he comes tomorrow.” Peter sounded entirely too thoughtful. “He doesn’t need to know just how close we need to be for you to sleep safely.”

“Here I thought, you’d be looking forward to him finding out,” Lydia said bitterly.

She should have known that he would understand every single word she said to Stiles. On top of that Peter also knew her well enough to be aware that she worried about this.

“Well, I don’t need to drive a wedge between the two of you for you to realise that you need me,” Peter explained. “I’d be contra-productive.”

Lydia shook her head. It was probably too much to expect that just once Peter was doing something nice that didn’t had strings attached to it. Even though in this case it was more about them working together on the current problem, it still upset her.

“I hope Yoon can work her magic and is able to arrange a meeting and that nobody makes a scene.” Lydia sighed when the doorbell interrupted her thoughts.

“If that’s the take-out - buzz it up, I’ll be out in a moment.,” Peter told her.

“I’ve got money,” Lydia pointed out.

“It’s not about that, it’s just precaution,” Peter called after her.

Either way he was getting out, Lydia heard the water splashing as she walked back into the living room. Picking up the intercom, she replied with the number of the flat and the female voice at the end said “Akropolis - Take out”.

Lydia buzzed her in and told her to come up. While the delivery woman was on her way, Lydia looked for her handbag and the wallet inside.

She had just found it, when Peter entering the room made her freeze on the spot. It wasn’t that she was shocked to seem him in nothing but a towel. His shirtlessness has lost nothing of its charm, but what had her staring, was the fact that there wasn’t one single scratch on him anymore. It was just smooth skin with well defined, gorgeous muscles underneath. Lydia fought off a sigh.

Her punch and the gradual thawing up followed by the hot bath had done the trick.

Another ring of the doorbell, this time at the door to the apartment broke the spell, she walked up to it and looked through the spy. There was a perfectly ordinary looking young black teenage girl standing in front of the door. Lydia was sure the face seemed familiar, maybe she had been in the class above her.

Either way she opened the door after checking back with Peter. Him being so serious about the danger had made her nervous and more careful as well. The girl of course had no idea that they feared an attack by whatever but Lydia also did her best to not be awkward. She took care of business while the girl peeked over to Peter standing there with his towel wrapped around his hips.

“Well, I wish you two a pleasant evening,” the delivery girl said and Lydia was sure that grin was not because of the generous tip as she was barely looking at the money and gave her the “you go girl” look.

“To you as well,” Peter said, a smile never leaving his face. Once they were alone, he asked her with a mischievous tone: “Hmm, want me to get dressed?”

Lydia looked at him for a long moment, before she replied with a shrug: “No - the windows and the bathroom needs scrubbing anyway.”

She had counted on the possibility that he might drop the towel just to take her up on that mock-suggestion. He was too aware of what seeing him naked did to her.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Peter told her, adding with a smirk. “But not on an empty stomach.”

Being in good spirits Lydia decided it wouldn’t be her undoing if she set the table for a change while Peter was getting dressed. At least she assumed he was, if he wasn’t, Lydia was sure she’d be able to live with that a well. It didn’t take Peter long to be back: he was wearing comfortable black pants and a loose, deep cut sweater. Lydia had to admit, he didn’t need any help from Hugo Boss to look fantastic.

The only thing that dampened her mood a bit was the nagging feeling of her friends disapproving of her not being utterly miserable. Stiles clearly expected her to be tied down on a chair and waiting with teary eyes to be rescued by them. Peter had been right about what he had said the night leading up to her last birthday: He wasn’t bad company.

While he might be just as full of himself as Jackson in many ways, he was actually capable of talking of other topics beside himself. While he brought himself up during dinner, it was at least a lot more interesting and related to things she wanted to know more about. For once, Lydia got him to talk a bit more about his witch friend and what kind of things witches could do and how they operated.

In some regards they were limited like the druids, they needed ingredients for their potions and mostly something to focus their powers into: hence the myth of the wands which they often hid in the form brooms in the past. That was the other thing about Peter, he knew a lot of history as well: both in the normal folk world and the one beneath that he had made her an unwilling part of.

He also pointed out that some witches had tricks up their sleeve that reminded her of Jennifer’s powers: making items float or creating illusions. Only that those burned a lot of power and hence they used a focus point. That put them at a disadvantage: properly prepared witches could fortify themselves into an area with protective spells and the like but alone or in small numbers in the open they were quite vulnerable.

It was another reason why it wasn’t encouraged to mingle: being both witch and werewolf was more power than most witches of werewolves liked to have combined in one single person. In that light Lydia found it made sense that they would be able to make it seem as if Peter was the reason for them leaving Beacon Hills: if someone trained his other set of powers, he might get too powerful for anyone’s taste.

“Not that this is much of a point now,” Peter added, “after a certain point, powers wither when not used. Although it would seem, the witch blood can still make me vulnerable.”

There was something about the way he said the last words, the part about being vulnerable, that stuck out to her. Before she might have overheard the subtle drop, as he said most of it as a matter of fact with almost an uncaring tone but there was more to it.

“As you said, witches focus their power on locations, as long as you don’t head alone into areas that are powered by magic energy, you should be fine,” Lydia told him encouragingly.

Peter nodded. “I hope that is true, otherwise you might have to rely on just the goon squad for your protection.”

“Ah, yes,” she laughed and shook her head a few seconds before taking a drink, before she called him out of it with a dose of sarcasm: “because keeping me safe is right on top of your list.”

As so often, his answers still surprised her. “Actually, yes - it is,” he smiled and tilted his head. “Not the number one position - that would be my safety - but you’re second place. That’s a lot higher up the scale than you’re on any of your friend’s lists.” Peter leaned back, holding the wine glass in his hands that he had gotten out for himself since she had declined, “if anyone else was in danger - another damsel in distress, a family member to safe: you think that Scott or even Stiles would stick around to look out for you?”

Lydia could see that he thought he had made a great point, especially in light of Aiden leaving her alone, but as usual Peter was missing an important detail. “I’d tell them to go and safe whatever person is in need of help right now.”

“I know,” he said, sounding more serious he continued. “We saw how that worked out Friday night. I don’t care if one random person across town dies, I’d make sure you’re safe first.”

Suddenly he got up and walked away from the table, leaving a still half eaten Moussaka behind. Which was still more than she had eaten, but these dishes were huge portions. Lydia was too surprised and began wondering about what had gotten into him, before she was able to contemplate what he had told her.

It was true that Scott was ready to play the hero, but there wouldn’t always be a threat right around the corner as soon as he or the others had left. There was always the option to go with them, but for this situation it worked. It was not like Peter would go out trying to patrol the woods, even if it did any good, so with her being here, the others were free to get back to their attempts to stop this.

“I should have killed Deucalion, I thought it was clever not to do it,” Peter told her.

Lydia had her own suspicions about that, mainly that it was benefiting him somehow, but she was still curious: “Why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to see him blow up into Derek’s and Scott’s faces,” he almost said more that, Lydia was sure he wanted to but something stopped him. “As they grew so fond of him, it seemed bad to be the one to get rid of him.”

At this point she began to understand why he was so upset, Derek and Scott and the others had killed him without a second thought and Deucalion gotten a pass by both of them. A decision that made no sense on its own to her and certainly not to Peter. She saw that it upset him, maybe he saw it as some kind of rejection. He certainly seemed bitter about it.

There was another admission. “He also seemed the perfect way to show you the danger you’d be facing all the time or at least as soon as more people find out what you are. It was an error in judgement, one I’ll correct as soon as I get the chance.”

“I don’t want you to kill him,” Lydia said but there was this pang in her chest and she didn’t need Peter pointing out to her that she wasn’t honest with herself.

“You say that but your heart tells me something different,” he sat down again and picked up his fork. “I think listening to your heart is so much more important than clinging to altruistic notions you can’t afford. Besides it’s all on me, not on you.”

Lydia couldn’t agree more with his last words but she could also not forget that he wasn’t the only one ready to take out someone she’d believed was dangerous to her. As much as she hated the thought of someone being killed because of her, or for any reason, she had to admit that she would feel safer without Deucalion being out there.

They looked at each other, both not eating and Peter seemed to be as confused by what he had admitted to her as she was. He couldn’t have believed it would endear him to her. At first, it felt like he was trying to spin this so she would see why he was right. She was about to point that it was not exactly encouraging her to save his life again if all he did then to turn around and take another life, when an odd thought popped into her head.

‘Could it be that, Peter, maybe had a shimmer of a conscience left, that made him feel bad about endangering her life now that she had saved him - again?’

“Of course it is,” Lydia said out loud, pushing this silly notion aside, “what you did clearly sent him over the edge, he might as well have taken that opportunity to turn himself around, regardless whether he deserved a second chance or not, he might have. We’ll never know.”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure, that gaining his eyesight back was all it took to make him change. Lydia, that only happens in really badly written tvshows,” he said rolling his eyes.

If Lydia was honest, she sometimes felt she was in one but Peter had a point and he knew what he was talking about. While Peter was acting less crazy since he had been killed, he hadn’t changed much and probably would never do. He might be willing to make some amends but on his own terms. It was better than nothing.

“I guess, it makes little sense to wonder what if,” she admitted, wondering if Deucalion in his current state wasn’t also a danger to others.

After that less than cheerful end to their dinner conversation, neither of them ate much. They ended up saving the rest for a later warm up and since Lydia didn’t want Peter close to her in that small area, she cleared the dishes and packed the food away all by herself.

For a change Peter turned on the tv and switched to the local channel, which was about to air their news. It was all about the killings, reporting on the latest and bringing up all the gory details in as much detail as was available to them. They also began to bring up the killings that had been blamed on Kate Argent, which both of them knew were really Peter’s bodies.

Being done in the kitchen she walked over to the couch and when she saw his smug face, she just had to ask. “Really?”

Peter looked up to her, he smiled darkly. “Might not be the right dead bodies, but at least the world remembers her for what she was.”

“What about you?” Lydia asked him daringly, “what should you be remembered as?”

“I guess that depends, on which world we’re talking about,” Peter said and sounded even a bit bitter. “There a things I’ve done I’m not proud of, but I don’t regret bringing justice to those who would have never seen it otherwise.” He switched the channel. “Nothing new to learn here anyway.”

A stupid commercial played on the tv and Lydia felt a bit lost standing in the room. She wanted to be upset with him for what he had done but she lacked the energy. Looking back at the past and determining just how justified or unjustified Peter’s or everyone elses actions had been would not get her anywhere. They all had made mistakes and while they said the road to hell was paved with good intentions - it was certainly also filled with self serving pursuits.

Lydia sat down on the sofa: “So are we going to do this?”

There was no attempt to hide just how thrilled the prospect of having Peter spook around in her dreams was but she was ready to get on with it.

“Not tonight!” Peter said, his voice was soft and yet it was clear no.

“Why not?” she protested, “more people could die! Yoon said it could take a while for me to pick up on all the tricks.”

“I know - but not tonight,” Peter said more firmly.

Taking “No” as an answer was something Lydia should do without a second thought but in this case she wanted to push back. As she looked at him, trying to figure out the best approach, she noticed the hint of goosebumps on his wrist. Where his arms weren’t covered by his sweater they showed signs of being cold, despite the room having gotten really warm.

In a heartbeat she reached out put her hand on the exposed skin, affirming her suspicions. He wasn’t as cold as before but his temperature was still way below the normal.

“Don’t worry, I’m back to full fighting strength and the after-effects of that spell trap are going quickly,” he said in a dismissive tone.

It was so typical, guys always needed to play it tough and strong. Lydia saw through it and given the right moment she planned on reminding him of it. This was not it. Besides she had figured out that he thrived on adversary. Peter seemed to expect it and that was all the more reason to pursue a different tactic.

With a sigh Lydia stood up and walked out of the room. In the bedroom she waited a bit and as expected he didn’t follow her. She gathered a wool blanket, which she had seen in the closet as she had been unpacking, then grabbed one of the bed covers and folded both neatly so she could carry them over to the living room. The expression on Peter’s face was priceless.

“Well, if we’re not doing anything constructive,” she put the blankets down and ordered him to get comfortable. She was sure that would not always work but in this case, there was no objection to her demands.

Peter stretched out on the sofa, looking at her with a suggestive smile, as he asked her if she approved. There was no way, she was letting that get to her. It was like she finally not only suspected that Peter would not try anything despite his somewhat inappropriate comment but had reached a point where she felt safe about him not crossing the line again.

Without paying attention to his comment, Lydia placed the wool blanket over him and then made herself comfortable lying against him pulling the second blanket over her. Despite the barrier between them she noticed the coolness and could not help but hope that he was right about the effects passing fast. Lydia missed how nice and warm he felt against her.

“So what do you want to do now?” Peter asked as he wrapped his arm around her.

Lydia used him focusing on her curves to conquer the remote control. “Let’s see.”

Usually she preferred renting movies as the tv program was always lacking and on this night it wasn’t any different. As she switched past the news channels, she checked out what was on just long enough to determine if it might be watchable. Despite it being still early in the day, there was no shortage of violence. Seeing more blood, even fake one wasn’t agreeing with her.

The red liquid was everywhere, even in the comedies that ran and when she switched to the documentaries, she jumped right into one that featured the sight of a pack of wolves taking down some poor moose. The next to things were having explosions, so she switched fast, not even bothering to make out what it was. In the end she stuck with the SyFy channel, which she seldom watched but that at least had no gory violence or blood to offer in the first minute .

“Well, that’s an odd choice,” Peter commented. He had to be aware of what she usually watched.

“I’ve seen enough blood for a while,” she told him flatly as she wondered what it was that she was watching until she recognized that it was this show about the doctor who travelled in a phone booth through time. Something Stiles watched - Lydia sighed and curled her arm underneath the blanket and let the episode run it’s course. Peter didn’t say anything against it.

He had obviously seen the show before and warned her ahead there would be blood and grossness - but as he put it - it was more an outbreak type of grossness. Lydia was already tired of switching around and so she stuck with it. It wasn’t too bad, a bit strange with crazy cat people running around, a huge face in a glass jar and some weird stretched out skin that possessed the doctor and his companion in turns.

It gave her a chance to be distracted from her situation as it allowed her thoughts to drift. Peter was clearly not opposed to just lounging lazy on the sofa, she wasn’t sure if that was just because he needed to warm up more or if that was something he did do on occasion. Shifting a bit near the end of the episode she thought she could stand another one and put the remote control on the table to make herself more comfortable. A decision she regretted about five minutes later.

“You got to be kidding me!” Lydia called out, eliciting a burst of laughter from Peter which earned him a buff from her elbow into the ribs. “You knew!”

“That the next episode would feature a werewolf?” he said amused. “Not really, though I guess I saw it at . Here - let me try picking something without gore, blood or werewolves.”

He had to reaching over her, even partially placed his weight on her as he angled for the remote. Lydia had no intention to help, part of her wanted to throw the damn thing into the tv. The result was that Peter held the remote, waiting for the end of the episode but also lied back with one leg around hers pressing more noticeable against her.

“You seem warmer already,” she noted and drew the blanket closer to her. It was not like she needed it, the room was warm but it was nice and cuddlier with the blanket.

“I’ve someone keeping me warm,” Peter told her as he leaned his head closer to hers.

Lydia frowned, wondering again why she was doing this, why she was not telling him to back the hell away and not take advantage of her kind gesture by literally pulling her into what was a way too intimate embrace. The answer was obvious but difficult to admit: having Peter close to her felt good on a purely physical level.

“Well, don’t get used to it!” she shot him down.

Just because this was a very tolerable scenario didn’t mean she was going to make it a permanent arrangement. After all, this arrangement was a necessity. She needed him to stop the Zombie lord and as there was no one else to turn to at this moment, Peter had to do. It was really more about opportunity and her warming him up than her actually warming up to him, Lydia decided.

She still had not given up on getting Peter to re-consider going for the dream training. The evening had barely begun. For some reason when he switched the program he went straight to some obscure side channel that aired reruns of Jeopardy. It was something she found utterly boring as she knew most answers or rather questions right of the bat.

Not really criticising his choice, she began voicing the questions before they were revealed on the show, which prompted him to say it first. For two episodes they got very engaged in a fierce competition about who figured it out first. Peter knew a lot, seemingly able to remember much he had once read, just like her, but Lydia felt she was ahead a bit. During the third episode, she found herself yawning and only mumbled her questions, before closing her eyes.

Peter played with her hair until another commercial break when he carefully scooted out from between her and the sofa to make his way to the bathroom. Lydia just looked up once, before she rolled against the backrest and made herself comfortable under the blankets. Not that she needed them to feel warm, the room was so overheated that it made her feel drowsy, but the blankets were nice and cuddly.

Once Peter got back, he turned off the tv and the main light in favour of the radio. An old song played softly as he joined her under the blankets, squishing her in between himself and the backrest. Not long afterwards she was fast asleep.

Lydia woke up, feeling gross and sweaty. She was not sure how much time had passed. The room was feeling like a sauna, even Peter felt much warmer. He seemed to have napped a bit as well but he might as well just have stared at her the whole time. She was certain when she had fallen asleep her head had lain against his chest but now his face close to hers.

He was still wrapped against her and when she rose to get out this tight embrace, she was only able to sit up. Her throat was dried out and she just cleared her throat as a ‘get your leg off me’ signal. Finally free, she climbed over him, ignoring the smirk on his face and went to the kitchen for a glass of water.

It actually tasted a pretty badly and she decided she needed to do something about feeling too warm and dirty. “Going to take a shower,” she told Peter, “if you’re warm enough, turn down the heat, will you?”

“Sure,” he replied.

Lydia went straight to the bathroom, making sure there was a large towel in reach before she peeled herself out of her clothes. There was this weird feeling that she couldn’t shake off since she had woken up. It had to be the heat because sleeping close to Peter was something she had to be used to by now.

The shower wouldn’t get as hot as she liked, but the lukewarm water would have to do. It was still refreshing and she longed to feel clean. Even when the warm portion of the water dwindled and left her with a growing cold stream, she stayed. Lydia was sure she’d be warmed up in no time once she was back in the living room: cleaner and in her nightgown.

Sometimes she’d purposefully used cold water to refresh herself and stimulate the flow of blood, before turning on the hot water. Only on this night it hadn’t quite the same effect. Even after minutes she still felt gross, cold on the outside but like burning up on the inside. Finally she gave up and stepped outside only to reach for a towel no longer there.

Confused for a moment, suddenly Peter wrapped the towel around her. He had startled, since she hadn’t heard him coming in. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Keeping you warm,” he murmured close to her ear.

Lydia closed the towel, telling herself that she ought to be mad at him. “This is so inappropriate.”

It was the honest truth and yet, she was not worked up about it. It was like having him around her felt right, while the cold shower had felt unreal.

“Yet, you’re the one cuddling up to me on the couch,” Peter reminded her.

“Now, I’m telling you to back off!” Lydia said firmly.

This was the type of behaviour she shouldn’t let him get away with and he did take a step back, almost immediately letting her out of his embrace. She turned around wondering why despite him stepping back she still felt close to him. It wasn’t just this weird connection they had, it never felt like that even when he was just in her head.

“This is not real, is it?” The question came as soon as she realised it. Peter smiled at her with this proud look on his face.

“I’m dreaming this. I’m - we’re still on the couch,” she said. It was part question, part statement.

“Close your eyes and focus on the feeling that gave it away,” he instructed her.

Since learning this was what she needed to do, she did and she realised she felt what he meant. It was there the whole time, but she had never really paid attention to the sensation. Usually what tipped her off about being in a dream was the weird locations or the unreal elements. Here it had been so subtle. She recalled something in the book about it. It was what a dream felt like.

Then she opened her eyes. “But when it comes after me, I always know it’s a dream.”

“Yes, but if you’re going to navigate between your dream and his dream, you need to know what your dream feels like,” Peter stepped closer again. “It takes a while to navigate a dream, let alone gain access to someone elses.”

He explained how it was easiest to use memories and thoughts to make a dream realistic and influence the person and that the more foreign elements were introduced the easier it was to spot the dream. Of course it was also less difficult for the sender, especially if one wasn’t as powerful as the Zombie Master.

Overall it was a painful reminder of what Peter had done to her last year. As she was sleepwalking around never really sure if she was going crazy or dreaming. That was not all. It also made her feel very uneasy as the realisation hit her about how she would be able to find the head and the hands.

“You - I need to go inside that things dreams?” Lydia gasped.

She had been there before but it had been easy because it had sucked her into them. If it blocked her, she was not sure if she could make herself go back. This approach made sense. When Peter had been in her head, he had used her memories against her: exploring things that scared her, locations that made her feel safe and gestures that would make her trust him. That was what she needed to do inside the zombie master’s dreams: pick it’s powermad brain for the right memory.

“Unless we miraculously find them,” Peter said and shook his head. Lydia knew what he meant, finding carefully hidden body parts in this town was like looking for a needle in the haystack. He touched her shoulders. “You’re the only safe bet we have.” She nodded still hating the idea, but it was obvious she was the magnet.

“What’s the next step?” she said firmly.

“Next,” he tilted his head and suddenly sounded very ominous. “Next you’ll have to learn to get rid of someone invading your dreams.”

He was of course referring to himself, it surprised her. Once she learned to do this, he wouldn’t be able to terrorize her ever again in that way. Lydia wondered if he really gave up his failsafe. After today that seemed even more unlikely. Unless, he was firmly convinced that he’d be able to convince her that she’d need him. Which could only mean that there were more beings out there and some would come after her for being a banshee.

Unfortunately whatever it was, Lydia had no choice but to go along. Stopping these killings was more important than worrying what might lie ahead. So she tried to focus on learning as much as she could. “Why would I need to learn, that?”

“So you know what to expect,” he told her, “by being able to do it yourself - you’ll be better equipped to keep someone from doing the same to you.”

He went onto explaining that there were two different scenarios with two possibilities for sharing dreams: someone coming into your dream or you going into someone else’s dream and either can be done by being invited into the dream or invading it. It’s harder to purge someone from a dream when they have been invited or there is a connection established as is between them or Lydia and the zombie master.

“So by trying to kill me, he’s also made himself more vulnerable to me?” Lydia asked gaining an appreciative smile from Peter that made her turn away to hide her blush as he told her again how amazingly smart she was.

“But it also means that getting you out of my dream will be hard.” Lydia gulped and her expression was fixed on the floor.

“I’ll make it easy on you,” Peter whispered to her.

Lydia wanted to ask what that meant, but as she turned back to him, she found herself suddenly engulfed in darkness. Peter was gone from her side and he had changed the structure of her dream. She felt the intrusion, even without a visual aid, Lydia could tell she wasn’t in the dream version of Peter’s bathroom anymore.

His presence was not completely absent but there was an emptiness around her and she had no doubt this was part of the exercise. Being able to tell what was her dream and what was influenced by someone else. There were so many variables, the fact that Peter was tightly pressed against her in the real world didn’t help it either. But she felt the cold around her while realising that her body itself was warm. It was a mix of signals she slowly began to sort out. The darkness helped as seeing images would make it harder to focus on the underlying feelings that she needed to pay attention to. What first had seemed impossible was becoming more and more clear to her: Lydia was beginning to sense what was her input and which belonged to Peter.

But only for a moment. Her ability to concentrate was moments later shattered by a reminder that Peter could not only be practical and efficient, but also downright cruel. The familiar noise of a floodlight being turned on and illuminating the lacrosse field upon which Lydia was standing on, left her terror-stricken. Which each light being switched on, her heart was racing faster.

It was so much worse knowing what was happening. This time there wasn’t even a Stiles to rush towards her in a heroic - but failed - attempt to save her.

‘It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream,” she whispered to herself.

Her fear left her petrified with terror, even her thoughts were moving in slow motion, as she observed Peter approaching her. At this point there was no more differentiating between her dream and what he put into it. It had become a bad flashback that drove her to the verge of panic. Lydia was one push from freaking out, but part of her mind was reminding her that all she needed to do was kick him out of her dream and she’d be safe from him.

Only Lydia had no idea how to do that. Wishing intently that he’d go away did not even slowed him down. He wasn’t walking to her fast but she wasn’t even able to step back. She just stared and wondered if she might need to make a move. Kicking him in the dream to symbolical kick him out of her dream. Only she could barely breathe and talk, her body was frozen on the spot.

The spell was only broken, when his weight pressed her to the ground. Lydia struggled in vain and a very pitiful gasp came out of throat. It was at that moment that she opened her eyes: awake and still terrified.

Peter was still pinning her down: not on the cold ground of the field but the warm, cushy couch. Her initial struggles were mostly an after dream reaction. Lydia saw his eyes slowly opening and taking in her horrified expression. Maybe he would have woken up when he noticed she had, but either way, she stopped moving and lay perfectly still. Her eyes felt wet and she didn’t dare to say anything as she felt a lump in her throat. It was as if anything could tip her over and turn her into crying mess.

Instead of doing the decent thing and giving her some room, he ran his fingers over her face.

“It can’t always work the first time,” he said, softly and with an encouraging tone, “I thought doing it this way, might speed things up. Yoon’s - more gentle - method seemed to take too much time.”

Oddly enough the gentle touch and the calm words got her mind to focus again. Lydia’s thoughts became clearer and she realised however terrible this had been - terrorizing her had been a byproduct. She shouldn’t be surprised, she knew he had no qualms about doing awful things if it served his plans or theirs in this case.

She need to calm down a lot more, before she could safely raise her voice. For that she needed some distance. Putting her small hand against his chest, the soft pressure got him to back up without her needing to say anything. Entangling his legs from hers and withdrawing his arms, Peter sat up.

Him following her silent wish and the actual freedom, made her feel a lot better. Peter was actually respecting her wishes. Lydia realised that they both worked with the same belief: that sacrifices were necessary if it helped stopping the killings faster. Even though she seemed to make most of them, he also had gone down this road for one very important reason: he’d believed she was able to handle whatever he threw her way. Otherwise it made no sense for him to waste further time, he would have followed Yoon’s advice. He wasn’t the type to take unnecessary risks or antagonise her for no good reason.

Lydia scooted past him but didn’t sit down that far from him. Having her feet on the ground gave her a bit more security but getting up was not her first impulse.

“We can take it slower, clearly, this was a bit too triggering for you,” he told her, almost as if he was making a peace offer.

It was the biggest understatement and she could not help but laugh, because it was so out of place. At the same time she was also shaking her head. “You think?” Lydia tilted her head and looked at him. “You could’ve told me.”

“A strong emotional reaction could have helped you with the task, if I’d warned you, it would have lessened the impact,” he said.

Peter’s voice changed near the end. The little ‘hmm’ he let out made her think that he might just now realise, that this might have sounded good on first glance but even without the obvious failure that it wasn’t the best approach. She turned away from him.

“I had no idea what to do.” Lydia rubbed her palms against her temples and then brushed her hair away from her face.

“Well, it’s not easy to explain, I know strong emotions help, to cling to a dreamer as the intruder and to remove an intruder from your dream. Intense hate can do that.” Peter took a deep breath as if he needed to calm himself down.

Lydia turned back, startled by his statement. It made her suspect that at some point someone had invaded Peter’s dreams and that his hate had enabled him to do what she had yet to accomplish. It made her wonder if he had known to invade dreams before he had died or if he had figured it out only after he had died. She wanted to ask him but he looked tense and she did not need more aggression from him this evening.

In her case it clearly had to be her intense fear that Peter wanted her to use against him. Unless he thought she’d hated him which made no sense. Otherwise, he wouldn’t constantly bother her with these suggestions about them being the perfect couple. Yet, she needed to be sure. Lydia placed her hand on his shoulder. “So you’ve done it before?”

Peter looked at her, shrugging once, but eventually nodded.

“How did you focus the hate or if that’s the wrong word, how did you use it against the intruder?” Lydia’s voice was firm but not aggressively demanding. If she noticed one thing about Peter, then it was that no matter how cool he acted, he loathed being weak or even just thought of as being weak.

He leaned his head back, letting out a moan, probably thinking about the right words. After a minute, he spoke again: “It’s pretty individual, I’ve used my voice but it was not just saying the words, it was more like using them to dismantle the entire presence inside the dream.”

Lydia let go of his shoulder, gaining a disappointed look for a second before Peter’s face changed to a neural expression. “I need a shower for real and you better not offer any towel services!” With that she rose, went to the central heating control panel and turned it down. “I think I did enough sweating for one evening.”

Leaving him alone in the living room, to get changed for the night. Not that she would be able to sleep. Her heart was still racing a bit. She had already made up her mind about how to proceed with the dream training. But before she was ready to tell Peter that, she needed to recharge a bit.

A nice, warm shower did that for her, it took her half an hour as she needed to dry her hair and clean her face from the make-up. Even though she wanted to eat something before going to bed, she brushed her teeth. Finally dry and wearing her long night-gown, she walked back into the living room to be greeted by a familiar quote.

“I carried a watermelon,” Frances Houseman declared on tv.

Lydia rushed to look at the flat screen, as she thought she was having auditory hallucinations. If that was the case something was wrong with her eyes as well. “I can’t believe it, Dirty Dancing!?” Giving Peter a sceptical look, she asked: “Is that some sort of apology?”

He smirked at her and said very amused: “Actually, I’ve always had a thing for Jennifer Grey. The only other movie at hand featuring her is Portraits of a killer.”

Of course it was about him, she thought, but at least she was getting something out of it as well.

“As long as this doesn't give you any bad ideas," she said with a sardonic smile.

Peter’s smile widened. “Lydia, with you around I'm always getting ideas." The deep breath that followed that sentence, spoke for itself.

But she wasn’t thrown off or intimidated by it. Lydia had found dead bodies, had nearly been nearly killed a couple of times and had bedded a total of four homicidal werewolves, just today, she had braved the creepy mausoleum again, saved her own personal nemesis from the dead and relieved one of the most traumatic events of her young life. Innuendos were not quite cutting it anymore.

"Well you know where the cold shower is,” she told him and went over the couch, grabbing the bed cover and threw them on Peter’s lap. Then she crawled onto the couch and laid her head on top of it. With the woolen blanket wrapped around her, she finally looked up at Peter. “Later, when I can sleep, I want to try again, we can’t afford to lose more time.”

He nodded his understanding and then said: “I assure you, Yoon’s method is a walk in the park.”

Lydia smiled, feeling stronger than she had ever been in the last couple of days, as she firmly told him: “Not her’s - your method.”


	28. It just gets worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris prepares for the meeting at Deaton's and finds himself being just floored when he meets Peter's emissary ...
> 
> _“Stressful day?” Deaton pushed open the door to the treatment room._   
> _“I’ve got a teenage daughter on the hunt for a crazy alpha,” Chris pointed out with a sigh._   
> _“That would make every day very stressful then,” Derek said dryly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Aiden for beta-ing this for me!

It was still early, but Chris cleaned up the table quickly, eager to call Deaton at the clinic. Again, he only reached Scott, who seemed to pull overtime at the clinic. It was further proof that their attention was divided in all the wrong directions.

“Deaton is meeting with a friend of his sister. He’ll be back later on,” Scott informed him.

“Any idea when the meeting will go down?” Chris asked, tapping his fingers on the table.

He heard a long, drawn-in breath, but otherwise Scott remained silent.

“Scott, I’m not going to shoot Peter’s emissary,” he explained, fearing that this was what Scott feared. Given that Chris had a history of threats of deadly force, some even against Scott himself, not mention the principal or others, it wasn’t an unreasonable fear.

“It’s just,” Scott began and stopped, “Derek’s going to be here, too.”

Derek being there wasn’t entirely unexpected, after all he seemed to have come back with the explicit purpose of helping out. Given the uneasy past between his family and the Hales, Scott’s reluctance to put them in the same room was understandable.

“I’m not going to shoot him either.” Chris rolled his eyes.

He hoped his more recent actions had shown his ability to put differences aside to solve immediate and larger problems. It wasn’t that he was looking forward to work with the werewolves again, it was that he felt he had to. At any rate, it was best to put the cards on the table. “Look, if Derek or even Peter have anything to add that can stop these killings, I’m listening. Just don’t tell Allison, she’s livid and can’t be reasoned with right now.”

He could hear Scott sigh at the end of the line. “I know, Isaac’s pretty worried about her.” Another pause, one that almost made Chris say something, before Scott continued. “She’ll be here in the afternoon.”

“She? So, the emissary is a woman,” he thought out loud.

“Yes, and Deaton also said she’s been in Beacon Hills for a while. He doesn’t seem to like her, but who can tell, but he’s convinced she knows what she’s talking about. So, I guess we’ll just have to see.”

The skepticism toward the new emissary probably came mostly from who her charge was than Deaton’s veiled opinion about her. There was a time when he felt similar about all emissaries as he only knew them as those who gave aid to the werewolves.

“Who else’s going to be there?” Chris wondered.

“The three of us, the emissary and possibly you, though Stiles and Cora might join us. Deaton needed someone to drive out of town and get some rare herbs, something might helps against zombie bites,” Scott explained.

Those last words gave Chris a very queasy feeling in his stomach. If Deaton was preparing for zombie bites, then it seemed like there was a lot to Peter’s claim that it was this Zombie Master creature. He had to check the bestiary again for references to zombies. If only his archaic latin wasn’t so basic that it was almost useless.

“I’ll be there, and I’ll bring copies of the police reports. Maybe Derek can use them to figure out something we’ve overlooked,” Chris said and thought he might as well make a second set for Peter’s emissary. He briefly considered asking John for his permission but decided it was probably better if the Sheriff didn’t know. The results were all that mattered and they had already gone far beyond what was legal.

When it came to the supernatural, there was no relying on ordinary methods.

“That’s good,” Scott agreed. “Maybe Derek can think of something.”

“Okay, see you later.”

Chris hung up - he had never been one for long-winded goodbyes. Going into his study, he got his copies of the reports and began sorting them into two staples: one that he could copy in one go and the others he would need to make individual copies of as they weren’t fitting into the slot of the copier.

He decided to make three copies, one for Derek, one for Peter and his emissary and then a third one just in case. He started it by doing the individual ones and then as the whole stack of uniform sized papers were read into the copier, he began sorting them into threes. Luckily, the copier did the main sorting on the other batch, so that all he needed to do was sort the right photos and other notes to the reports.

It took him two hours after which he opened the bestiary and started looking for hints of undead beings and printed those pages out as well. Chris couldn't be sure he had gotten the right or even relevant entries but with an obscure online dictionary he annotated a printed out bestiary page.

The entry that seemed to talk about zombies wasn't just obscured by the Archaic Latin but also by religious overtones. The hunters in the 1920’s who must have written it originally, were working with crosses and holy water. They made quite a show of the process of destroying someone who had come back from the dead and started to feast on the living.

It had been a creature who looked much like a werewolves with fast movements, claws, pointy ears but even more bestial. The word for muzzle was used and they creatures were covered in dirt and filth. Eyes were described as glowing green. Being too dangerous to face in direct combat they had lured it into a trap: spikes in a ground hole. Chris was sure all the fancy ritual did nothing for the actual destruction which happened by burning it to ashes. Either way it wasn’t helpful and he hoped he’d never have to deal with the creature or the type of hunter who described every they did to the screaming creature with such glee.

There was still time after he had prepared everything for the meeting and part of him wanted to stop by Esoteric Books to see if he could find out more but decided he was going to wait until after the meeting. During the day, he was too likely to be noticed. If anything was amiss, he couldn’t afford anyone seeing him. If there was nothing wrong and Yoon was a perfectly normal shopkeeper, he’d just seem like a stalker to her and the idea didn’t sit right with Chris.

While Chris was busy making up his mind on what to do in the next two hours, the doorbell rang. Not the one downstairs but the one right outside his door. Tension gripped him and his hand went for the gun in his belt. Slowly, he approached the door, ready to draw and shoot instantly if he was attacked. As he looked through the spy, he saw a familiar face that he couldn't place at first. The tall good looking young man in front of his door was clearly not labeled under threat, as he felt calmer. He had to be a classmate of Allison, Chris thought and let go of the gun. Part of him was still prepared to use it but he didn’t want to appear to an ordinary kid from school like some deranged psycho. It was bad enough that he scared the principal to death.

“Hello, Mr. Argent.”

The young man’s greeting sounded almost like a question and suddenly the coin dropped. Chris had never talked to him but they had seen each other. This was the boyfriend of the gay alpha twin. Someone Chris wished he could warn about the danger he was in.

“Yes, Danny, isn’t it?” He wasn’t too sure about the boys’ name. “I’m afraid Allison isn’t here.”

“Oh,” Danny sounded disappointed. “Yeah, it’s Danny. I got this project with Isaac and I couldn’t reach him and Mrs. McCall said he was with Allison. Since I was anyway here, I thought I’d stop by and give him this.”

He held out a CD from a video documentary series that the school used, Chris could only assumed they needed to watch it for the assignment. “I suppose you don’t know if he’s coming back here before going home?”

Chris wanted to say, that he couldn’t tell him for sure but then he said. “Don’t worry, you can leave it here and I’ll make sure he gets it tonight.”

“Really?” Danny asked surprised.

“Of course, it’s no problem,” Chris said and took the CD. “I’ve heard that Ethan wasn’t feeling well - I hope he’s better.”

Danny sighed and shrugged. “I think so, Aiden wouldn’t let me in. Said Ethan was sleeping and was still sick. I’ve no clue what’s going on.” His disappointment about being kept in the dark was obvious.

“Sorry to hear that, I’m sure it’ll sort itself out.” Chris didn’t want to encourage Danny but he also didn’t want to make him feel worse. He wondered what was wrong with Ethan that he didn’t even want to see his boyfriend. He couldn’t still be injured. As an Alpha, Ethan should have recovered by now.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Danny shook his head and then smiled at him. “Thanks for passing on the CD!”

They said awkward goodbyes and then Chris closed the door. As he walked to his study, he wondered if he should check up on the twins as well. The problem was, if something was wrong with Ethan, it was all the more likely that Aiden would lash out, unless there was another reason why they wouldn’t want Danny or someone else in the apartment. Or, since they were immature teens, it could just be that Aiden was sulking.

Chris placed the CD on the reports and decided to check his mail. There were no new messages from the other hunters but it was just a question of time until they would make their move. He had blackmailed Gerard into telling them to stay out of it for a while but that would only last so long. Given how dangerous and unpredictable his father had become, Chris expected that at any moment he might change his mind and call the others up himself. Threats and the false promise of Deaton maybe having found something that could keep his constant pain away was all that kept Gerard in line. At least, with Derek no longer being an alpha, killing Derek wouldn’t revert the curse. Otherwise, Chris worried what might happen if Gerard found out that Derek was back in town.

Sitting in front of his laptop, it occurred to him to google for Yoon’s bookstore. He hadn't really expected to find much, so when Chris stumbled over the small website, it surprised him. It was nothing special though: a welcoming page, opening times, google maps, a description about the content of the store, a short history with pictures of the opening day. Yoon was in some of the photos but she was never looking at the camera.

The only page of interest was the “ask me a question” part. Which was run by a script and had Yoon giving solid advice to people seeking books or other stuff to solve their problems. Chris found himself reading through a couple of them and was surprised by the amount of straightforward advice, especially with how often Yoon was replying to people that meditation and spirituality could aid them but they had to seek professional help to deal with grief and other problems that indicated mental issues of any type.

Chris wondered if he should use this to ask her about the shooting by posing as someone who had seen it but couldn't understand it. As he kept thinking about a way to pose the question, he noticed that he had spent too much time reading through this section. It was almost time to go to the animal clinic. As he bookmarked the page and the pop up blocked most of the page, Chris saw, a small almost unnoticeable link at the bottom overlaying the Greek letter psi. When he clicked it, it asked him for a username and password.

That was making him wonder what was hidden there. As he had no time to worry about that, he closed the laptop and put two sets of the files into a backpack along with the CD. Chris didn’t want to tell Danny he was meeting Scott to avoid awkward questions but giving it to Scott would ensure the CD got to Isaac.

Fetching his jacket, Chris switched off the light, checked the gun on his back and left the flat. Due to people being scared to be outside with all the killings, the streets were already very empty despite it being hours before curfew. Nobody wanted to be outside where they were exposed to an unknown threat.

As he pulled up on the parking lot of the animal clinic, he saw an older couple leave with a pet carrier. Judging by the size, it was probably a cat. They were putting it onto the backseat of their car as Chris stopped his car close by. He gave them a nod as he got out grabbing his backpack in the same motion. As they saw his face, there was this hint of recognition and they quickly turned away and got in their car.

“Those damn newspaper articles!” Chris slammed the door of his car shut.

It had been bad enough after the articles had identified Kate as the crazy killer but it was getting even worse this time around. He locked the car as he walked up to the building, a tight grip on the backpack as he pushed the door open.

Deaton was sorting through some papers lying on the desk behind the counter. “You’re early.”

“Traffic was light,” Chris said, surprised by the aggression that still swung in his voice.

“Stressful day?” Deaton pushed open the door to the treatment room.

“I’ve got a teenage daughter on the hunt for a crazy alpha,” Chris pointed out with a sigh.

“That would make every day very stressful then,” Derek said dryly.

Being early, Chris hadn’t expected him to be there already. He immediately tensed up: it was an automatic reaction and his hand went towards his gun, but Chris stopped himself before drawing it. He couldn't even say if the comment was meant to be provocative as it was said so dispassionately.

“Actually, Allison was doing fine, until your uncle decided to rape and kidnap her best friend.” Chris had wanted to keep this meeting without arguments but the words slipped out before he could think about it. Only Derek wasn’t shouting or yelling back. Instead, his lips pressed together and he looked at the floor for a moment.

“I still can’t believe he’d sink that low,” Derek grumbled.

Scott stepped closer and put his hand on Derek’s shoulder. “That’s not your fault.”

“I take it you’ve no clue how to find Peter, either?” Chris asked despite knowing the answer already. He felt they needed to stop this blame game and focus on the issues. They had nothing else to say to each other that wouldn’t lead them back to their unfortunate history.

Derek shook his head. “No, I felt he was around enough. So I never bothered to find out where he lived.”

“I doubt he’d stay in the same place if he thought anyone knew about it, he’s clearly prepared this,” Chris admitted, standing somewhat awkwardly in the room.

Reminded of his backpack, he opened it, noticing the alert motion coming from Derek, who clearly trusted him as much as Chris trusted him. That or it was just habitual, like his reactions. “Here’s a copy of the files for you,” Chris put the folder on the examining table between him and Scott while looking at Derek.

After a moment, he put the second one next to it. “Here’s a second one.”

“For whom is that?” Scott asked.

“I guess, it can’t hurt if Peter takes a look at those.” Deaton understood right away.

“Wait - you’re considering involving him, too?” Derek was probably as surprised by this gesture as Chris was by him actually doing this.

He looked at Derek decisively. “Deaton seems to think that the Zombie theory has some merit, and maybe by seeing the reports and photos, Peter can figure out who’s behind the other killings. I don’t want to work with him, I really don’t, but if it saves lives ...” He shook his head. “That’s more important right now than putting a bullet through his head.”

It was such awkward statement that nobody said anything for a moment. Here they were again talking about killing and Chris wasn't even sure why it felt so weird. Was it because his family had already murdered so many Hales that it felt wrong to consider more? Or was it that Peter had refused to stay dead once already? Or was it because there was no disagreement from Derek or Scott this time?

“I think, it’s best we focus on stopping the killings. If Lydia needs Peter to help her figure out her powers, then getting her back probably needs to wait.” Scott sounded not entirely convinced himself.

“Maybe you can talk your uncle into letting Lydia call us regularly?” Chris suggested. It wasn't much but it would put everyone at ease.

Derek shrugged. “If he’s worried you’ll use that number to track him down, he might not go for it.”

“He’s already called and switched off the phone - there’s no reason why he couldn’t keep using that phone to let Lydia call us?” Scott walked over the files.

“If I see him again, I mention it,” Derek slowly said.

“Wouldn’t he try and convince you to join his pack?”

It was a fair question, after all that was precisely what Peter had done before. From what Scott had mentioned Peter had attempted to join Derek or at least partially clung to Derek while he had been the Alpha.

“Yeah, he would - but I think he’s going after Cora first,” Derek shook his head.

Scott turned suddenly. “But isn’t she already part of the pack where she was staying for the past few years?”

“I wish,” Derek looked a bit unhappier as usual. “She’s wasn’t very tight with the pack and since she left to come here, her standing has declined.”

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Chris could sense it.

“She’s had this brilliant idea to go undercover in Peter’s pack, hoping that she can find out more this way,” Derek admitted. “Which I won’t allow.”

“You’d think Peter would harm her if he found out?” Scott swallowed hard.

“He killed Laura,” Derek reminded them.

“That’s not what you’re worried about,” Deaton spoke up again. “She’s come here before to join a pack lead by a Hale. You’re worried she might actually end up becoming part of his pack.”

Chris could tell that Alan had nailed it. Derek face spoke volumes and Chris understood his problem: he clearly was unwilling to team up with his uncle let alone accept him as his alpha. But if Cora, his only other living relative would join Peter, it would leave him little choice but to follow. There was the fact that, clearly, Peter wasn't to be trusted.

However, having someone undercover could prove to be immensely useful.

“Given that she’s familiar with his track record, how likely is that?” Chris had put the words out and suddenly understood what Isaac meant by Derek having this look that said ‘this is the end of this conversation’.

“I just remembered,” Chris said eager to break the tension and pulled out the CD. “Danny came by and dropped this off for Isaac. Thought you might want to give it to him.”

“Danny?” Scott looked at him doubtful as he took the CD.

“Yeah, he tried to visit Ethan who, according to Aiden, still needs bed rest.”

Deaton shook his head - just once - before he looked at him. “He should be fully healed by now. The wolfsbane delayed the initial healing but that effect had passed by the time the twins left.”

“Who knows what’s going on with them. Aiden seemed very upset when Lydia told us not to look for her,” Scott said as he packed the CD into his bag. “It was hard enough to convince them to help out while everything was still okay between Aiden and Lydia.”

“Aiden wasn’t even very cooperative when I asked about the shooting in front of the bookstore.”

“Probably because,” Derek pointed out and stopped as a ring from the doorbell announced someone else coming inside the clinic. “He wants to settle this himself.”

Deaton walked out of the treatment room while the rest looked at each other.

“I’m afraid you might be right,” Scott said softly, as if afraid that whoever was outside might find that comment suspicious.

They waited a few heartbeats. When the door opened again Chris’ face fell as he saw Yoon walk through the door. He knew what it meant but even as Deaton introduced her, he felt himself shake his head. “Everyone, that’s Yoon Myung, she’s Peter’s emissary.”

“I should’ve known.” Chris stared at her and his voice couldn’t sound more bitter.

“Well, once upon a time,” Yoon said looking not really happy either, “there was this nice rule that only the alpha ever really knew who the emissary was. I guess rules don’t count for much in this town.”

Chris noticed her gaze drifting to Deaton while she said those last words. He had to admit he understand her wanting to keep it a secret, especially since the twins were also involved, maybe even considering his own past with Peter, but he was still upset.

“You two know each other?” Scott asked.

“She runs the bookstore, where Ethan was shot,” Chris told them and began to realise that Deaton must have known that as well. ‘Druids and their damn secrets’, he thought.

“Where Lydia went for help with her dreams,” Scott said with the distinctive happiness of someone who just had figured something out. “So Ethan came to check you out and ran into Peter’s betas who were there to see you.”

“That’s about right,” Yoon nodded and removed her bag and the leather jacket she wore and put them onto a chair. It clearly didn't bother her too much that her status was revealed.

He wasn't the only one looking at her with suspicion, Derek and Scott seemed not too thrilled by her behaviour either. If she had hoped to distract them with her tattoos then it wasn't working. Deaton tried to say something but Chris was faster, still angered by her playing with him like that. “You’ve been here for a long time and it makes me wonder how involved you were in Peter’s plans to regain his alpha status.”

She smiled but without the warmth she had shown in the store. “Let’s play the open cards game. I’ve been here for a while and I’ve known Peter for almost as long. No, I didn’t know about his plans to steal Deucalion’s powers, I neither assisted him with that nor did he mention it to me.” Yoon cocked her head. “When he asked me to be his emissary, I said yes. That doesn’t mean I’m okay with what he did to Lydia. Although, I can tell you, she’s far less upset about that than any of you.”

“That’s what you’re saying,” Derek replied.

“She can tell you that herself, tomorrow, if you’re agreeing to a meeting.” Yoon met Derek’s gaze before swerving to Chris. “Sorry, the invitation isn't for you.”

“Of course not,” he replied only to realise how childish his brisk tone was.

“Wait. Peter wants to meet and bring Lydia along?” Scott made sure he had understood this right.

“No,” Yoon said firmly. “Peter doesn’t really want to. He has to. There’s no way he’ll be able to bring down the Greater Zombie master with such a small pack, especially while keeping Lydia protected.”

“So he’s bringing Lydia along to convince us that she’s staying of her own free will?” Chris wasn’t sure if he wanted to believe that but he had to admit, it would resolve some reservations he had about accepting Peter’s help. Over the phone, Peter could make Lydia say almost anything, but face to face, against another alpha and anyone else included in the meeting would make that impossible.

“You really think he’d risk losing his price?” Deaton asked her.

A smile appeared on her face, that was betrayed by her icy tone. “Peter happens to value my advice. Even if he doesn’t like it.”

“You might think that - but you’ve got no experience as an emissary,” Deaton said, “you might think you know Peter, but you’d be wrong.”

“I can hardly do a worse job than you, Alan,” Yoon said very quietly.

Deaton seemed unimpressed. “With Peter as your alpha, you’d be surprised how much worse it can get.”

“We’ll see.” With that she turned to her bag and opened it. “I’ve brought a few things along, just in case you do run into the things doing the actual killings.”

“Actual killings?” Scott asked.

Yoon shrugged. “As Deaton might have explained - or not - the inconsistent bite patterns on the victims point to Tupilaqs.”

There was clearly some animosity between the two druids, Chris wondered what was up with that. He was reminded again, that Deaton hadn't doubted her knowledge but he obviously thought she wasn’t ready to be an emissary. There was this jab about having known about the Tupilaqs, a name that seemed oddly familiar as something entirely different. “Aren’t those little statues carved from bones?”

“Yeah,” Yoon nodded. “The cutest version of them. Carvings mainly associated with Greenland. They sometimes represent several animals in one statue.” As she kept explaining, she put little bags filled with a white substance on the table and a number of spools with metal wiring. “What we have here is the flesh and bone version. Dead animal parts put together and re-animated by dark magic. The ordinary versions of them are nasty enough, the ones made by a Greater Zombie Master are even worse.”

“Salt?” Derek picked up one of the bags, sounding sceptic or normal, Chris couldn't really tell the difference.

It was Deaton who replied. “Salt has an adverse affect on re-animated bodies.”

“In case of these true tupilaqs, it’s the only thing that works,” Yoon followed up on that. Showing her own impressive looking metallic green painted fingernails to illustrate, she explained how it worked. “Use your claws to tear the bag, then throw it into the mouth and use this,” she held up one of the spools, “to wire it shut.”

With a smile in Chris’ direction she added: “I don’t recommend, the non-werewolves trying this. The good news is that the zombies made by the Zombie Master are destroyable by a headshot.”

“So this is real. We’ve got a zombie maker on our hands and he’s animating more these creatures and people?” Scott asked looking in turn at the two emissaries.

“From what Yoon told me about how Peter and Lydia identified it,” Deaton said holding his alpha’s gaze. “Yes, I think that’s exactly what we’re dealing with. Just because it’s rare and seems unlikely, doesn’t mean it can’t be happening here.”

“Just to make one thing clear.” Yoon crossed her arms and looked at them with a serious expression. “These things are nasty, they’re powerful enough without drawing from a Nemeton. If we don’t stop it soon, there might be a chance this Zombie Master is capable of killing everyone in Beacon Hills. There’s no telling what it will do afterwards, because never before has one of these things taken on a town of this size.”

Chris could tell she wasn't joking. Looking at her still made him feel angry but he could see that she was dead serious, concerned, and well prepared.

“Are you really saying that this thing is going to depopulate an entire small town?” Scott said unbelieving.

“Yeah, someone’s going to notice,” Derek agreed with him.

Yoon shook her head and took a deep breath. “The zombie master has other abilities, he can alter memories, he can stop time, he can make it seem like nothing sinister is going on and then strike when he’s ready. This thing is so much stronger than anything you’ve faced before.”

“How do we find and kill it then?” Derek leaned forward, focused more on his uncle’s emissary than anyone else in the room.

Chris did the opposite: he had stepped back a bit and observed the whole scene, noticing how Deaton seemed displeased but still listening very closely. Scott looked particularly uneasy, most likely because he blamed himself for everything that happened. Yoon wasn't as comfortable as she seemed, Chris realised. There was a look between her and Derek and the occasional uneasy glance at him didn’t go unnoticed.

It was almost like she expected him to ask something else.

“You won’t find it and even if you did, it is indestructible - at least for now.” She let that message sink in, before she said: “This is where Lydia comes in.”

Derek crossed his arms and kept staring at Yoon. “This seems awfully familiar.”

“Due to what she is, the Zombie Master began blocking her dreams. Then when she went looking for what was responsible, it connected with her in an attempt to stop her for good. ” Yoon rubbed her naked arms, he fingernails scraping slightly over her skin. “That was its big mistake, he gave her a way in. With her powers, she can use this to find out where it hid its head and hands.”

“Did you say ‘head and hands’?” Chris blinked at her.

“You heard right,” Deaton chimed in. “A Zombie Master is indestructible as long as it’s separated from his head and hands. It is for all intends and purposes, a head and handless torso, although it can take other shapes.”

“I knew Lydia can find dead bodies but just that thing’s parts?” Scott looked positively disgusted.

Yoon gave a melancholic smile at his remark. “It’s a bit more difficult than that.” She shook her head and made sure to look at each of them as she went on. “Peter can teach Lydia how to invade its dream and rummage through the memories but that will take time. While it can’t harm Lydia through dreams while she’s with Peter, it will try to gain more power and then attack by other means.”

Clearly, Derek didn't bought everything she said and if Chris was honest, he had the exact same doubt and question that Derek brought forth. “How exactly does Peter protect her? Is his presence so abhorrent to the Zombie Lord that he simply stays away?”

Chris couldn’t help but smile a bit at the way Derek put it, but it was again not Yoon who replied but Deaton. In his a total dispassionate voice, he explained why that wasn't a lie. “The Zombie Master might have established a connection with Lydia, but the existing bound between her and Peter runs deeper. If Peter’s physically closer to her than the Zombie Master, there would be no way for it to break through.”

“If the thing can teleport, couldn’t it just appear closer to Lydia while they’re both asleep?” Scott wondered.

“No,” Yoon said looking at Deaton as if to ask him if he wanted to take this one. But he remained silent and she went on. “Werewolves aren't as vulnerable to its abilities like ordinary people are. Peter would sense its presence and while he can’t destroy it, he could drive it off. With Deucalion’s powers, he’s way too dangerous for the Zombie Master to risk a direct attack.”

“What you mean, drive the Zombie Master off?” Chris said. “If it’s invulnerable then...”

“Not invulnerable - indestructible. Peter, or anyone, could injure it in a fight and force it to retreat to its hideout but any injuries sustained would be healed no matter how extreme. If an attack comes, the Zombie Master will stay in hiding and senet out its fiends.”

If Chris was honest he still had a hard time buying it but Deaton calmly nodding and not once claiming that Yoon was spinning a tall tale made him aware how real this was. There was an undead monster in town that could animate dead animals and also people. What happened so far was just the beginning. It would get worse.

His first instinct was to call Allison and tell her to get home and then send her to her room but that was obviously not going to help at all. “How are we going to protect ourselves from this thing?”

“Keep your minds sharp and focused,” Deaton said.

“It would also help having someone to watch your back. Team up so that at least the non-werewolves aren't alone.” Yoon suggested.

Deaton nodded. “Entering a flat or house will be harder and more costly than teleporting onto a street or a public building.”

“While Lydia tries to find the heads and hands - what are we doing?” Scott looked at Yoon.

“Hopefully, discovering more about the other killer, the mausoleum,” she replied and tilted her head as she looked back at Scott. “I know. I wished we could do more.” The look she shot Deaton at the end of her sentence wasn't very friendly, but he got where it came from. Deaton had suggested the ritual that while saving him and the other two parents, also started this whole debacle.

“If you’re looking to help, Scott,” Deaton said slowly, “I could use your help with the clinic tomorrow again.”

“Are you still looking for your sister?” Chris asked.

Deaton nodded. “She has gone off before to do things on her own but she’s not answering her phone, I can’t even use the GPS to find it, none of her friends knew anything about her intending to leave. I’ve used other means but I’ll need another day to pin-point her location.”

Chris could see that Alan tried to play it down but in his eyes was a resigned look almost as if there was no expectation that Marin was still alive. Judging by the way the others looked, they were thinking the same, except for Derek, who just stared Deaton and suddenly asked, “You can find people with other means - yet you made them go through the sacrifice ritual?”

“That was different,” Deaton looked at Derek and then at a rather upset Scott. “It was the only way, there was no time left to try anything else.” Yoon rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, pressing her lips together as if she wanted to keep from saying something. When Deaton noticed her reaction, he said firmly into her direction. “I stand by decision.”

“I know you do, we’ve had this discussion before,” Yoon said with an annoyed sigh. “But if I might make another suggestion. Let me look for Marin tomorrow. If anything happens, it’ll be much better if you’re here to render first aid. It’s not like there’s another specialist in town.”

Deaton seemed undecided and Chris found himself making a suggestion before he had even really thought about it. “I could go with her.”

Everyone looked at him and it occurred to him, that maybe offering his help to Peter’s emissary was a bit strange but he wasn’t doing it for her. Not really. They needed to work together and besides, he felt reluctant to hold having a severely disturbed alpha against either Marin or Yoon. That was the way it worked. Following her around would also give him a chance to ask Yoon a few more detailed questions.

“You said it yourself,” Chris told her, “we shouldn’t be on our own.”

Derek snorted, drawing an odd look from Yoon. It made Chris feel oddly self-conscious about eventual other reasons for wanting to go with Yoon. However, he could care less what Derek Hale thought about his motives for going with her. What he said was still valid and it wasn’t like he could get much done by staying around in Beacon Hills.

“Well, Alan?” Yoon turned this around to Deaton.

If he wanted to look for his sister himself then that wasn’t something anyone could criticize. Deaton considered it for a moment, looking at Chris and then back to Yoon. “Maybe you’re right. You’re probably better suited for finding her anyway.”

Yoon swallowed and with a strange smile she replied: “Well, that’s nice of you to admit.”

Chris wasn’t sure why she’d felt bothered by this compliment but maybe tomorrow when it was just the two of them, he could ask her more about it. There were tons of question he had and while she might not feel comfortable answering them since she had made it clear her position as Peter’s emissary wasn't something she felt should be public knowledge, Chris could at least ask.

“How about we get back to things at hand?” Derek asked.

Scott agreed. “Yes, you said Peter would agree to meet with us and bring Lydia. Where and when do you suggest this meeting should take place?”

Everyone looked at her but Yoon turned her gaze towards him. It was a clear sign that whatever she had to say, it wasn't for him to know. Chris realised that the others followed her suit. He wasn’t about to stand in the way of them maybe getting Lydia back or at least making sure staying with Peter to stop this thing was truly her idea.

“Well,” Chris stepped towards the files and looked at Deaton. “Don’t forget about these.”

“I’ll get started early tomorrow, be at the shop at six if you really want to come with me,” Yoon told him.

Chris nodded. He considered saying something but instead he just left the room. It wasn't like he had any grounds to object being excluded. He couldn’t even blame Yoon for being so secretive. He had yet to understand the strange relationship between Emissaries and their Alphas.

Marin was a good example of that. She did went along with a lot of the evil schemes Deucalion brought to town but at the same time she also rescued Isaac from them. Yet, despite knowing where they kept Boyd and Cora, she didn’t say anything. There was a certain loyalty, but it clearly didn’t go very far. Chris wondered how the relationship between Yoon and Peter was. Even with Deaton and Scott, he wasn't sure who was loyal to whom and what Deaton exactly did for Scott.

Deep in thought, he crossed the reception area and stepped out into the cool night air. Looking up, he realised that the full moon was approaching soon. A couple of days and the new beta Peter made was going to go through her first one which was something that might create more troubles as well and Chris made a mental note to ask Yoon about that as well.

Tonight, he decided to let it rest. Chris walked to his car, noticing the sleek black Honda motorcycle on the parking lot. Thinking to himself that he’d better supply the wheels tomorrow.


	29. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia learns a bit more from her next dream, but remains anxious about the meeting at the mall ...
> 
> _With one hand doing a lame symbolic gesture of pretending to keep him away, her other one was free for an equally unhelpful attempt: Lydia tried to slap him. If not for unwanted kissing then at least for an unasked one. She hoped that it was her saving grace and that Peter couldn’t read her body with the same precision as in the real world, but he caught her hand easily._  
>  _“I don’t think this is how it works.” Peter drew back and looked at her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, just proofed by myself. Also sorry about the longer pauses, real life and especially health is not so great at the moment.

When Lydia woke up, she was alone in Peter’s bed: as she had been after every night that they had spend together. It felt as if he had been up for quite some time already. Lydia still couldn’t believe how little either of this bothered her. Not the sleeping together part or the morning where Peter seemed very eager to flee from her side.

After all that happened last night, it was probably not a bad thing for her to have some space. The entire sunday had been an up and down trip of crazy events. The most important thing, however, was the progress she had made: not letting Peter intimidate her so easily anymore, standing up for herself and getting a much better handle on navigating her dreams.

While her second attempt during the night to remove Peter from her dreams hadn’t been successful either, she had handled his second, unpleasant intrusion with much more grace. Part of her still shuddered a bit just thinking about the scene Peter had recreated after they had gone to bed.

Instead of the field, he’d chosen her bedroom as the location for their second training ground. It was a terrifyingly accurate flashback to the week before her sixteenth birthday, when Peter had finally spelled out what he wanted her to do for him. Lydia lived through that dream scenario with painstaking awareness. Remembering in vivid detail just how much power Peter had held over her then.

Lydia would have done everything he’d asked of her just to get back her peace of mind.

It was easier for her to sense the difference between the parts of the dream that belonged to her and those that Peter had brought with him. It helped with the coping and as cruel as it seemed, it was certainly not done to hurt her. There was a method to what Peter did: the recollection helped Lydia to harvest her anger. The kind of strong emotion she might learn to wield as a weapon in her mind.

After all their conversation last night, Lydia had at least an idea what to try.

She had understood that it wasn’t actually Peter’s likeness she needed to get rid of but his presence inside her dream. This presence was what she was pushing against with her anger. As before she didn’t feel any effect. Peter was gaining on her inside the dream. Separated only by her bed cover which he was lying on top of. He hadn’t wasted much time and placed a clawed hand threateningly against her cheek. Another reminder of what had happened the first time around. Despite feeling strongly she still seemed unable to use that against him. The only comfort she had was that this time around she wasn’t crying.

Peter looked at her curious as he turned her face towards him, she saw his smile. Lydia wondered if it was because of her failed attempts or if he noticed that at least in round two she was not nearly as out of her mind with fear as before. Fear was actually not the problem. While she hadn’t counted on this scenario to play through again, Lydia had expected something like this.

It occurred to her that she did focus on driving him out, it wasn’t doing anything but she could feel herself pushing. Like twisting a knife in the crack of a door trying to break it open: the lock is firm, the knife bends and bends and the person pushing is feeling the exhaustion. Which meant either she had to collapse from the efforts or something else had to give.

Naturally, something entirely different happened.

Peter had decided that obviously more inappropriate behaviour on his part needed to happen. As he came that much closer to her face, his fingers brushed through her hair until they settled in her neck. For a moment, it seemed her push got more forceful. Until he kissed her. Her lips were pressed tightly together from her focusing way too hard but that changed within seconds.

There was just one heartbeat of hesitation and her mouth loosened. She felt the soft touch of his lips all over hers and while she wasn’t kissing back, a pleasant tingle ran through her body. Lydia pressed her hand against his chest as soon as her head cleared enough to realise what was happening.

All that well cultivated anger had fallen from her mind. At least the anger directed at him. Lydia couldn’t believe that this didn’t caused her to feel more anger at him. Instead she was on the verge of responding. It cost her so much willpower not to kiss him and that made her angry again. She was angry with herself. Lydia knew this was just a dream, but even in here Peter couldn’t control how she felt.

It was her reaction and it was so out of line.

With one hand doing a lame symbolic gesture of pretending to keep him away, her other one was free for an equally unhelpful attempt: Lydia tried to slap him. If not for unwanted kissing then at least for an unasked one. She hoped that it was her saving grace and that Peter couldn’t read her body with the same precision as in the real world, but he caught her hand easily.

“I don’t think this is how it works.” Peter drew back and looked at her.

He held onto her wrist and that smug look on his face. It was as if he was mocking her useless efforts and that got her head back into the game. Lydia was angry and his touch alone made her pulse race. This had to stop and she felt something pouring out of her forcefully. As Peter’s grip tightened on her arm Lydia felt a change inside her.

His presence began to fade. For all visual purposes he was sitting there, holding onto her wrist - but everything else was gone. This wasn’t her room anymore, their surrounding came now from her own mind and ironically her mind projected Peter’s bedroom into the dream.

“I didn’t expect that.” Lydia looked around.

Peter looked impressed though. “It’s progress.”

A weak nod was all she could muster as a response, it was like now that it was over, a certain level of tiredness took over her. Lydia wanted to keep trying but it became obvious that she was not going to get Peter out of her dream like that. Even though the way he kept looking at her was kind of infuriating.

“What?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “I just find it interesting that you purged most of my influence on your dream, but not me.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “I’m getting there.”

His answer was a sigh but he let go off her wrist. At least until he had time to put it back in a less possessive manner by placing his palm on the back of her hand. “You know, I’m not really that fond of the idea of you being able to get rid of me like that.”

“Expecting to need someone to resurrect you again?” Lydia tried to remain firm.

She could not help but feel that there was something more to his statement, but either way, it could not be anything good.

“Hopefully not - especially if my pack keeps growing.” Peter tilted his head. “Who knows, maybe we can convince your friends that there’s no need to be enemies.”

“Maybe,” she replied reluctantly.

The last phone conversation with Stiles was still weighing heavy on her mind. Whatever was going on with him, it was infuriating her even more than anything Peter had done this evening. Which was insane but Lydia wanted her friend’s support and not accusations for making the best out of the current situation.

She kept thinking about Peter advising her not to be too detailed about their arrangements. Which was a good point. Only angry as she was, it was tempting to reveal everything. Lydia knew she needed to get her head in the game for later. Looking around in the empty bed, she wondered how late it was.

The sun was up, even though the blends were down, that much was obvious.

Yoon had called late the night before but with rather good timing, as Dirty Dancing had been over and she had Peter were about to go to bed. She went ahead to the bedroom and let them handle the arrangements. Whatever concerns Peter had about meeting with her friends, he would take precautions and those were not really her problem.

What she needed to do was difficult enough: Convince her friends that they needed to work together, that she was reasonably safe with Peter and not to make things worse between her and Stiles. The latter of course could blow over with just the wrong word and those seemed to fall in abundance lately. For a while she thought not having anyone listening to her was the worst, lately she had discovered being listened to and then being overheard was much worse.

Although that was technically not listening either.

Lydia decided she might as well get up and ready. Without bothering to check what Peter was up to, she selected some clothes for the day and went into the bathroom to get ready. If she was honest, she adored this bathroom. It was much more comfortable and spacey than her own. Not that she would admit that to Peter or anyone.

In no particular hurry, she showered, dried off her hair, treated her skin to some moisturizer and finally got dressed. Somewhere during the last two steps her mood took a small dive as she imagined Stiles complaining about her not looking miserable, maybe she felt bad about feeling fine. Which was upsetting enough.

Not that she did not still bear the marks of the past days: There were still the faint bruises on her wrists, the small cut on her lip and the fading strangulation marks from Deucalion grabbing her throat. Most of the time she didn't even think about them. Sometimes she caught Peter looking at her neck but it was always just for a split second. There was no fuzzing about it from him and this was making her feel less uncomfortable about the marks.

To avoid more exposure, she had decided on a turtle neck shirt for the meeting which was also conveniently long sleeved. The pale blue shirt matched quite nicely with the black skirt with the small rose pattern on it. Lydia made the rest of her presentable, by fixing her hair and her makeup, before investigating what schedule they had and if there was breakfast ahead.

Her appetite was bigger today than it had been for the past week.

Stepping into the living room, she found Peter leaning over the kitchen counter, looking into the book about the ritual killings. It seemed like he was almost through with it. When he heard her, he turned around.

“I see you’re ready.” Peter let his gaze wander about her body.

Lydia put her right hand on her hip. “How about: Good morning? Did you sleep well? How about some breakfast?”

He just shook his head and smiled. “Just because we’re currently living like a married couple, we don’t need to engage in the banalities of it.”

Something clearly bugged him today, because so far he had not exactly been opposed to the breakfast thing and Lydia was sure he had once or twice said something like good morning to her.

“Here, I thought, talking is what married couples don’t do.” Lydia walked closer towards him.

“They do in the honeymoon phase, and then for a while I think,” he shrugged and put bookmark into the heavy volume. “But as far as breakfast goes, and due to the lack of groceries, I thought we might eat at the mall.”

Since the couple talk did not appeal to Lydia at all, she was glad to switch to the mall as a talking point. Without a clock in this damn apartment or her cell phone, she was at a loss for time. “Is it already time for the meeting?”

“No.” Peter shook his head. “But I’m cautious and I want to be there early to make sure nobody is getting any funny ideas. Rubèn and Naira should have already arrived to stake it out. I thought, once we’ve eaten, you and her can do a bit of shopping, while Rubèn and I are on the lookout.”

“You’re worried.”

Now, she understood Peter’s strange mood, it was so obvious. He was sceptical about the meeting and how it would expose him to a number of potential enemies. The others might be planning something that could create a truckload of problems. Two weeks ago, Lydia would have said, that they wouldn’t do anything that could interfere with putting an end to the killings. With all that was said so far, the impression was that anything could happen.

“Present company excluded, I’m not really looking forward to place my trust in the hair wired actions of teenagers,” Peter said, his voice filled with an underlying tension.

Of course, the way her friends reacted was closely tied to Peter using her poorly for his personal gain. It was no good pointing that out, what was done was done. Maybe Peter could have helped just as much if he hadn’t been engaging in his own nefarious schemes. They would never know.

“What’s the worst that could happen? They’re not going to try anything. They barely even call the police when it actually would make sense.” Lydia leaned against the kitchen counter to look at him.

“I suppose, you’re right about that,” he said, tilting his head in her direction. “But I hate surprises.”

For a few moments they just stood there, looking at each other and then Peter pulled back. “Shall we head out then?”

Lydia nodded and twenty minutes later, they were heading down to the garage. It had taken them a bit to gather the essentials: money, phones, keys and warm jackets. She had been a bit surprised when Peter handed her the phone they had used to call Stiles several times now. Then she remembered he had this way of getting rid of reception. It was anyway switched off and Lydia dreaded turning it on, wondering how many texts Stiles might have sent her or worse: if he had sent any at all.

All the way to the car, that occupied her thoughts but she couldn’t make herself turn on the phone. Instead she thought about other things, like the shopping they would need to do or why the Jaguar looked so clean inside.

“You seem nervous.” Peter said as he pulled out of the garage.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Lydia replied, holding the phone in her hand. “I’m not looking forward to more arguments with my friends.”

“Yoon had the impression, that Scott was open to talks and Derek, well, he might not always do what’s best but he’ll listen,” Peter pointed out.

“What about Allison?” Lydia wondered if her friend knew about the meeting or if they simply did not tell her anything.

Peter let out an annoyed breath. “Everyone agreed it was better not to invite her. Which of course doesn’t mean that she won’t find out another way.”

It would be easier with one angry person less being there. Lydia had not forgotten how upset Allison had been during their last phone call. Once all this had blown over, Lydia would have to take Allison aside. She hoped that part of the tension would be solved once Peter did manage to stop that Zombie thing. Either way, Lydia had learned a lot about her her banshee powers, Allison should be thrilled about that at least.

“Even if she knew, it’s not like she can do anything?” Lydia let the phone sink.

Meeting her gaze, Peter shrugged once. “The thing with the Argent women is: they’re all insane. Why do you think I felt so strongly about Scott taking her down: there’s no telling what she might do.”

A big frown appeared on her face. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about.”

The look he gave her was very unsettling. It had elements of that one time when she had purposefully answered a question at school wrong and the teacher had her called out on it but also that time when her mother had caught the sophomore sneaking out of her room.

“Remind me again, why are you friends with her? In all those years, there had to be someone better to choose!”

Lydia pouted and for a moment a decisive shrug was all she could muster. Apart from Jackson there really had never been someone she had hung out with at length. There had been the clubs at school, the usual bunch of admirers and the nagging suspicion that a bff of her own would have sent Jackson into a depression. Maybe she had been afraid that if she brought attention to another girl, then what had happened with Allison and Jackson would have happened sooner.

The question _Why Allison?_ wasn’t something Lydia could answer. It had been like some higher power had dragged that new girl into Lydia’s path and divined that she was to make her her new best friend. There certainly had been other girls that shared more interests with Lydia than Allison Argent.

“She just is!” That was really all there was to say, but Lydia felt there was something else she needed to get off her chest. “If she’s a bit more irrational lately - it’s all on you. Once she realises I’m okay, she’ll settle down.”

Peter took the turn to the mall parking lot, merely glancing at her for a few seconds. “As long as she stays out of my path, I don’t care how upset she is.”

Lydia stared back at the cell phone in her hand, she knew she should check if Stiles wrote, instead of arguing pointlessly with Peter. It was just so much easier to get into a verbal fight. “No surprise there, it’s not like you care to begin with what your actions do to other people.”

“I care as much about other people as they care about me.” Peter’s tone was bitter, he stopped to check out a parking space. While putting the gear in reverse, he looked at her. “Actually, I think that’s not entirely true.” Peter turned his attention to parking the car but continued to talk as if it was not all that important a topic. “After all I did care enough to try and free Derek from the grasps of your best friend and her psycho aunt. I guess, unless that doesn’t count for some reason.”

That was the just the thing: it shouldn’t count. He hadn’t really done it for Derek. What Peter had done he did mostly for himself.

“If you want a medal, then try doing something where you’re not the main beneficiary,” Lydia suggested.

As he stopped the car and pulled out the key, before he smirked at her. “They always say you should try new things.”

His reply might have upset her if she had any illusions about him actually caring about bettering himself. Lydia knew she didn’t. Peter would not change - it was enough that he wanted to to stop this thing as well. For everything else he had in mind, there would be a better time to do something against it.

“Let’s do this,” Lydia said as she got out of the car.

The mall was the place she knew best. Even though it was based around where to buy the best clothes and how to spent the time pleasantly. Whatever Peter and his pack figured out was probably far from that.

“We got a bit under three hours before the meeting officially begins,” Peter told her.

Lydia turned to look at him. “Meaning you expect the others to show up earlier as well.”

He just gave her a knowing smile, before he caught up to her and they entered the mall together. It was at that moment, when they stepped into the busy open space that it occurred to her that someone might actually recognize her. Lydia shuddered to think how they’d perceive Peter at her side. He was so close as if they were together and showed no intention to give her some space.

They were spotted but not by a classmate. Within five minutes of entering the mall, Naira and Rubèn approached them. Lydia figured it was a werewolf pack thing. The previously torn up beta seemed to have recovered. Both seemed in rather good spirits. “Naira and I did a brief check of the area, I don’t think anyone of them has been here.”

“I didn’t expect they would.” Peter looked around. “Lydia and I are going to eat breakfast, after that I thought we could leave the girls to do some shopping.”

Judging by Naira rolling her eyes, she felt similar about Peter’s antiques, but she was actually glad that she could spend some time away from him. Even though Lydia didn’t really knew the other woman, it would be nice to have another chance to talk to her, this time away from Peter’s way too accurate hearing.

“We’ll see about securing an exit route, just in case the meeting goes sour.” Rubèn looked towards the second floor balustrade. “I think I’ve found two spots that would serve as a great lookout.”

As if to tell them to get on with their scheming and planning, Lydia’s stomach rumbled. Luckily, Peter took it as a hint to say a temporary goodbye to his betas, after which they headed to a little cafe, she had suggested. That was one of the more agreeable points about Peter: while he could argue he didn’t bother to do it where trivial matters were concerned.

There was not much going on and they had their breakfast within minutes of having ordered. The hot chocolate and the croissant she had ordered were appeasing her stomach. Lydia wondered if she should say something but she could not think of anything. Instead she used the silence of Peter drinking his coffee and observing their surroundings to pull out that cell phone again.

Lydia felt Peter stopping his observations briefly to look at her but when she just left it lying next to her half-eaten croissant he went back to his observations. It took her five minutes and then she switched it on. There were 14 messages. Lydia stared at the small display in disbelief. As she had begun this, she decided she would not back out again. Besides, if she knew what and when Stiles had texted her, she might be better able to convince him during the meeting today.

The first one was rather benign. I’d be more inclined to believe that this is really your decision if I heard you say that far away from him. The next message read I swear if that creep touches you again I’m going to turn him into ash and litter him across the ocean.

It gradually got nastier, all threats clearly directed at Peter and various parts of his body. Clearly, Stiles was convinced that Peter had her say those things and then tied her back to a chair in the basement. It was probably good she had not eaten that much as she got this uneasy feeling in her stomach just from imagining how upset Stiles might have gotten.

Lydia knew he disliked her putting herself in harm’s way. When she had decided to try and save Jackson he had a minor meltdown as well. This indicated Stiles had gone nuclear. It made her feel really bad but at the same time she had no idea what else to do. As long as he kept disregarding what she wanted, it probably did not matter if she was saying it to him alone in a room or being with Peter across town.

Letting out a sigh, Peter’s attention to turned to her. “So, Stiles wrote back?”

“Yes, of course he did,” she replied, angered by Peter’s entirely unaffected tone. “He’s made some rather interesting suggestions on what to do with your corpse.”

“I’ve always known the boy had potential.” If Peter was phazed by threats he was not showing it. He seemed amused even though there was still some tension left in his body language.

“You’re probably right, the less he knows about,” she paused as the waitress served on the nearby table, “our arrangement the better.”

Peter nodded with a mischievous smile on his face he added: “I assume that your twin won’t mention anything that might really set Stiles off. What do you think?”

Somehow she managed not to turn a shade of purple, as Peter dragged up her stupid comment towards Aiden. Lydia was sure he was just teasing her, but the thought of him bringing that up during the meeting, was scarier than being caught saying it. “I think it should never be mentioned again.”

A big frown appeared on her face, when he laughed for a moment. “Ok, we keep that between us - for now.”

‘Yes, that’s what you get for making hurtful comments’, she thought, but tried to smile. After all Peter needed the others to work with him, he couldn’t afford to upset Stiles even more. At least, that’s what Lydia hoped. It didn’t felt good to have Peter hold this over her. It wasn’t like she could just deny it, the other werewolves would realise that her denial was a pretty straightforward lie.

Instead of dignifying his latest comment with an actual reply she finished her croissant and acted as if she didn’t care about what Peter had said. She was getting better at it, who knew maybe when this had passed she might be able to talk to Stiles in a quiet moment and explain it to him. That way Peter couldn’t hold it over her head.

Lydia kept looking at Peter from time to time and noticed that his attention seemed to be drawn elsewhere. At first she had not been sure but he was listening: not to her or anyone close by. Instead of stupidly asking what he heard, she decided to look around if she saw any sign of danger.

There was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a few people you’d expect to be in a mall on monday morning during Spring Break: a couple of teens, a few moms with babies and small kids, some people who were on their way home from late sunday shift and the occasional person that could not be placed outright: but nobody that seemed sketchy and certainly none of her friends were around.

Turning back to Peter she saw, he had stopped. With a slight shake of his head he got out his wallet and placed money for the breakfast on the table.

“What is it?” Lydia wanted to know. “Is someone here who shouldn’t be?”

“No, not really,” he said and stood up.

Lydia gathered her handbag from the chair next to her, but she wasn’t really willing to get up until she had found out what was going on. Peter didn’t seem really rattled but whatever he had heard it wasn’t good news either. “There was another killing, was there?”

With a loud crash the waitress who was just clearing a nearby table dropped a tea cup. The noise startled not just them. “Sorry,” the young waitress said and hurried off.

“Yes, there was,” Peter said as he urged her to move. She got up and they hastily paced down alongside a couple of mostly uninteresting stores. “It struck inside a house,” Peter informed her. “Overheard a wife of a deputy gossiping she didn’t knew too much though. Just that it was a family of four.”

It was unbelievable how calmly he said it, stopping when some shoppers got to close and then naturally picking up the moment they couldn’t hear anymore. Lydia had to stop and catch her breath; not because they had been walking terribly fast but because the news made her feel queasy enough to start breathing flat and fast.

At least Peter wasn’t telling her to get a grip, he just stopped and even shielded her from the prying eyes of passing shoppers. She felt his hand on her shoulder, but still the thought that it struck so soon and this time inside a house, was unsettling to her. “It’s only going to get more aggressive, isn’t it?”

He leaned down and whispered into her ear. “It’s not yet powerful enough to attack as it would like - hence it carefully chooses its targets - because it knows it’ll upset you.”

Lydia found herself leaning against Peter who did wrap his arm around her. “I’m not ready yet - not even close.”

“You’ve made amazing strides,” he stopped a moment and Lydia heard a mother and a constantly chattering toddler pass by. “If it is rushing, it’s because it knows it won’t have much time. It also means it’s likely to make a mistake.”

If only she could see things so dispassionate, Lydia thought. It might be true that it would keep killing anyway and that down the line a lot more people would end up being dead, but it still felt as if those people last night were dead because of her. It was stupid and emotional but she couldn’t shake off the feeling.

“Everything okay?”

Lydia stepped back, feeling a sudden embarrassment as she heard Naira’s voice and realised that she was pressed tightly against Peter’s chest.

“There’s been another killing,” Peter explained.

“Yeah,” Rubèn sighed. “We’ve heard, it’s the number one gossip topic amongst the baby wielding moms.” His eye-roll that went along with his last comment gained him a firm push from Naira. He did the same and she followed with another but the push got lighter and then they looked at each other for a moment before holding hands.

“As unfortunate as this is,” Peter said, ignoring their behaviour. “We still got the meeting ahead and plenty of time to kill.”

“I guess, they’re busy with this latest incident and less likely to do anything dumb,” Rubèn with a suddenly very serious tone.

He was probably right. If the killing happened last night, then the Sheriff and the FBI were probably busy at the crime scene. That meant if anything was planned against what they had set up with Yoon, it had to involve Allison or maybe the twins, but the latter were a long shot. Allison’s dad was out of town with Yoon. A circumstance that clearly upset Peter and Lydia wished she knew the reason behind it. Yoon was after all in no danger from Mr. Argent and looked like she could handle about anything.

“We can only hope that Scott has one of his more brighter episodes,” Peter replied. “That boy can be really smart - but then again, he can be really dumb, too.”

Lydia sighed, it seemed the only time Scott was acting smart was when he was under duress, then he had the brilliant ideas. The more time he had to think the less that turned out well. So far he had acted a lot more reasonable than Stiles or anyone else, which was most likely due to him not being so invested in who had sex with her. Apart from Scott’s grudge against her for not returning Stiles feelings, Scott didn’t seem to care for her one way or the other.

“So far there’s nothing to indicate that they’ve got anything planned,” Naira told him. “I just hope they kept that crazy girl out of the loop.”

“Crazy girl?” Lydia asked, even though she had a pretty good idea who that referred to.

Rubèn sighed. “I know she’s your friend but she’s walking around town armed and clearly looking to kill someone.” He looked at Peter who just shrugged.

If not for that uncomfortable discussion with Allison in her room, Lydia might have thought this was over exaggerated. Then again, Allison had stabbed Isaac a few dozen times, even though it was seldom mentioned, as it was considered in the past and over and done with, it added to a sense of dread. Lydia didn’t want Allison out there doing something dumb and violent, but she also knew it was because Allison felt protective of her.

After a moment, Peter suddenly said to her.“How about you look for a new phone with Naira while Rubèn and I make sure nothing disturbs our meeting?”

Lydia did not feel much like shopping but getting a new smartphone was a good idea. That cheap cell phone she had been using to call Stiles made sending texts an obstacle and she missed all the distracting little extras her phone had: a touchscreen keyboard, the mp3 player, the videos, internet access and a clock. Especially in the morning it’s nice waking up and having something to tell her the time.

“Sure.” With an enthusiastic step forward and and positive smile, Lydia hoped that she would get into better spirits. She certainly could use some distraction from that nagging feeling that the Zombie master had targeted those people last night because of her. Peter was right, it was going to kill again - no matter what they did - but she was unable to brush of the feeling of guilt.

Naira signalled her to show her the way. It was obvious that while Naira had scouted the place for enemies and exists, where the best shops were was Lydia’s domain still. Even though, electronics store were not really her main focus she knew where to get the best products, too. It was all a matter of research.

Leaving the guys behind fast, Lydia let her to the second floor at the north end, where they had helped her with upgrading her memory card and ordered that special cover she had been looking for.

“So, you ran into Allison?” Lydia wasn’t sure if she wanted to know more details, but she was worried about her friend.

Naira laughed softly. “Not really, luckily - we sat in this little café and saw her stalking by, the other werewolf in tow - what’s his name …”

“Isaac,” she said. It had to be him, there weren’t too many werewolves that Allison would be seen with.

“Right, I hope after today, your friends are willing to work with us,” Naira clutched her handbag tightly making Lydia wonder what she had in there in case things turned out differently.

“They have to, we need to stop this thing.” Lydia sighed. “I don’t want to worry about you fighting each other for really stupid reasons.”

“Why are your friends so upset with Peter anyway?” Naira asked, sounding genuinely curious. “They’ve worked with him before, haven’t they?”

Lydia knew she shouldn’t be surprised that Peter had conveniently not mentioned the part that had gotten everyone so upset. “Did he tell you how he became an alpha again?”

Naira stopped, given that they were at a point that was free of shoppers and allowed them to talk without having to pause in case passer-bys overheard them saying weird stuff. “He said he drafted you into a ritual and took them from Deucalion. - Given what I’ve heard about him, it’s nothing I’d hold against Peter.”

“Yeah, not sure the others feel the same about that - but what really upset them was the nature of the ritual. Everyone but me seemed to be deeply traumatised by the fact that we had a threesome,” Lydia sighed and looked up at Naira who also looked terribly shocked. “And yes, neither Deucalion or me had a say in it.”

Getting slightly uncomfortable by Naira’s reaction, Lydia shrugged and turned to walk on. A soft touch on her shoulder stopped her though. “Are you telling me, that Peter raped you?”

Avoiding to look at her directly, Lydia looked up at the decorative window tiled ceiling with all the spring themed decoration. “I guess,” she began, “you could say that only I don’t feel raped.”

There was something in that look Naira gave her, that made her feel like she was about to react the same way as her friends. So Lydia felt she had to explain how she saw the situation. “It’s weird, I drank this potion and I was so totally turned on,” she shrugged, wondering if she explained it right or if she was just lying to herself. “If I was raped, wouldn’t I feel bad about it and not be turned on?”

“You’re okay with what he did?” Naira asked as if she couldn’t really believe it.

“I’m not okay with it, it just it’s not the ritual that bothers me so much as how everyone reacts,” Lydia said, shooting a ‘go away’ glance at a couple that walked towards them. Surprisingly, it worked and the couple made a course correction to towards the other side.

Shaking her head Naira sighed. “Rubèn told me that Peter was slightly amoral but that is …”

Lydia laughed. “Slightly? That’s an understatement.” She took a deep breath. “But he can stop this thing. Peter also can help me with my powers and not just as it relates to bringing down the zombie thing.”

“I get why your friends are so upset, if I hadn’t seen you with him back there - I’d think you’re in denial - which is probably what your friends are thinking,” Naira said slowly.

“Maybe,” Lydia sighed again. “I just feel like they should listen to me, what Peter did last spring was so much worse and they had no problems working with him after that.”

“Do I even want to know?” Naira raised her eyebrows.

“You know, he was dead and then came back to life?” Lydia ask and after she got a nod from Naira, she continued: “He was haunting my dreams, caused me to hallucinate in class, made me sleepwalk and other stuff that convinced me I was losing my mind.”

“That’s how you ended up walking naked through the woods,” Naira realised and pressed her lips together.

Peter had probably told them most of it but downplayed it. Lydia knew he had a way with words and how to twist situations around. “Yes,” she finally said. “I guess I ought to be really mad at him - I sort of am - but I feel it should be up to me to feel outrage or what should be done about it.”

“What do you want to be done about it?” Naira asked.

The tone of the question made Lydia feel like Naira understood what she meant. It wasn’t like the twins who hoped she would give them the green light to tear Peter limb from limb. It was honest interest in how Lydia felt about it. Whatever her reply was, Lydia knew that it would be between them.

“Oddly enough, I don’t want anyone to do anything about it,” Lydia looked straight at Naira. “If Peter abuses his power or starts to kill people again, then yes, I want them to stop him, but if Peter stops that thing and finds the other killer, that’s good enough for me.”

Lydia sighed feeling this relief about telling Naira all of it, how she felt, admitting she didn’t want retribution and most of all that there was no snide remark about her leaning so heavily on him while she coped with the bad news.

“Despite everything, I’ve the feeling that’s what he wants to do,” she smiled. “And for all the wrong reasons.”

With a shake of her head Naira added: “I can’t believe you don’t even want a little payback.”

“Oh, I tried that --bashed his head in with a bottle,” Lydia shook her head. “It was the opposite of satisfying.”

“I know what you mean,” Naira started to walk again and Lydia followed her. “In all my years as a bounty hunter, I never had to shoot anyone. Then”, she took a deep breath “all that blood.”

While Lydia hadn’t seen what had happened to Ethan, she hated to think how gory that scene had been. Aiden’s look when he felt the pain had made her feel enough worry. The two women looked at each other, there were no hard feelings and Lydia was sure she could count on her help if she needed it. Together with Yoon that made two allies against Peter if needed be, Lydia thought with a smile.

For the time being there was not much more to say and so Lydia guided Naira to the AT &T store hoping the guys who had been so helpful with her last phone problem were still there.


End file.
